Broken Mirror
by Tangerine Catnip
Summary: Thrown headfirst into an alternate universe, Danny becomes locked in a deadly game of cat and mouse with this realm's top ghost hunter, Daniel Fenton. Original Concept Danny X Danny Phantom. Slash.
1. A World Best Left Unseen

**B****roken Mirror**

**Chapter 1: A World Best Left Unseen**

Danny struggled with every last bit of strength he had, trying desperately to break the iron grip on his wrist, but the metallic fingers didn't loosen so much as an inch. His green eyes flashed brightly as another wave of panic washed over him and he lashed out behind him with his foot. The attack was deflected by a second armored hand, the metal glowing with its own strange energy as it counteracted his ghost powers.

The Ghost Boy's legs became a spectral tail and thrashed frantically like a trapped snake as he fought to get away from this madman and his unnerving fanged grin. The madman in question watched the display with no little amount of amusement, the tenacity of his newest providing him with quite the show.

Eventually, Danny stopped squirming. He could feel his energy waning and just the thought of passing out, left at the mercy of this monster, was enough to make the ectoplasm run cold in his veins. He let his body go slack, focusing on regaining power in his ghostly core, making every second he rested before his next attempt matter. Slowly, he turned his gaze back to the one holding him captive, pushing back his fear. If it was going to end like this, he was not going to go out screaming and crying.

A man who looked an awful lot like Vlad Plasmius observed the change in behavior with interest. He didn't usually spend this much time playing with his food, but this particular treat was just too intriguing not to spend a few minutes savoring it.

"What's the matter, little ghost, given up already?" he mocked, receiving nothing more than a growl of frustration in return.

Danny was nearing the edge of his rope at this point. Not only was he stranded a whole reality away from home, but now he was face-to-face with an alternate version of Vlad that was even worse than the one he had to deal with in his reality. At least his Vlad had some fucking standards and wasn'ta freaking vampire.

It took every last bit of his willpower to stop himself from flipping out again. In his mind's eye he could see nothing but an endless replay of the moment Vladimir 'Dracula' Plasmius had decided to show off his power-stealing abilities. The look of fear on the shapeless specter's face flashed behind the boy's eyes. Danny could still hear the blood-curdling scream echoing in his ears and even worse...the dried up husk left behind after Vlad was finished.

Ectoplasm…he fed on ectoplasm...more powerful than human blood…It was something Danny never could have dreamt up in his worst nightmares. His whole essence when he was in ghost form was made of that stuff. He could imagine having it removed would feel like someone sucking out your insides through a straw.

The Vlad of this world was part ghost by design, not accident, his powers taken right from the life-force of his victims. Danny couldn't fathom where he had gained the vampirism, though. As far as he knew that didn't even exist in his realm. This whole dimension was so messed up...

"Pity..." Vlad mused, intruding on the whirlwind of thoughts in Danny's head. "I was hoping you would put up more of a fight..."

The green eyes of the ghost boy narrowed. 'You have no fucking idea what kind of fight I can put up…' his inner voice hissed, but Danny was able to hold his words back. No need to give away his plan.

This new Vlad had technology he had never seen before, but that little fact worked both ways. This wasn't his Vlad and therefore he knew absolutely nothing about the kind of power Danny was packing. He wasn't some shapeless blob one screwed-up vampire could boss around.

'_Just relax, Fenton, you will have your moment. Getting out of this one just needs timing. You can do this..'._

One of the metal gloves Vlad wore—which Danny assumed must be similar in design to the Ghost Gauntlets back in his realm—gripped his waist. The field they emitted prevented Danny from breaking away or going intangible. Ecto rays were also out of the question, thanks to the odd metal amulet draped around Vlad's neck. Danny had learned the hard way that any blasts of ghost energy that got anywhere near were sucked inside before they could do any damage. Despite the dangerous situation, Danny made a note that he should totally get one of those if he ever made it out of this universe alive.

Ice powers might have worked if Danny had any point of contact that wasn't blocked by those damn gloves. Vlad must have dealt with elemental ghosts before since he was holding Danny in just the perfect way to prevent it. There was only one thing he had left, his last resort. If only Vlad was standing in front of him instead of holding him from behind...

One gloved hand managed to capture both wrists. Danny cried out as the collar of his suit was grabbed and yanked sharply, the material of his jumpsuit ripping cleanly and exposing his neck, much to the delight of Plasmius' hungry blood-red eyes.

"Don't worry," the vampire purred, "I'll put your power to expert use…" His fingers grabbed Danny's short white hair and tugged, painfully forcing the younger's head back. Danny's heart skipped a beat as the monster leaned in.

He could smell the rotten ectoplasm on his breath. His whole body spasmed involuntarily as fear overcame him again. Another yank on his hair forced him to lean all the way back, and then something wet and slimy ran up the side of his neck.

It took a second for Danny to realize it was Vlad's tongue and then something very important in his brain broke.

"**Let…"**

Sharp fangs pressed against his skin, lips creating a seal around the area so not a drop of power-rich ectoplasm would be wasted.

"**Me…"**

Fangs pierced the tender skin on the ghost boy's neck, the first drop of green liquid pooling around the small pinprick.

"**Go!" **

A wave of pure power emanated from Danny's mouth, turning that final word into a wall of pure force. A high-pitched resonance filled the room, bouncing off the stone castle walls and filling the master bedroom where Vlad preferred to take the more interesting meals. The echo redoubled the sound, raising it to ear-drum shattering volumes.

Vlad dropped Danny, presumably to cover his ears, and the reverberated shockwave slammed the two of them into the other wall, cutting the destructive wail short.

Vlad's head hit the wall with a visceral crack. Danny was spared the same fate only because the now unconscious body of his archenemy had softened the blow. The vampire slumped to the floor as the freed teen swooped into the air, not even giving the older man a second glace as he scanned the bedroom for the best means of escape. There was a slight pain in his arm from where Vlad had twisted it, but he wasn't going to hang around long enough to inspect it.

Danny spotted a window above the large bed, trying not to think about how many ghosts had lost their afterlives on the green and gold bedspread, he rushed towards it. A sharp shock when he touched the window informed him that it was ghost-proof and spurred Danny out of the bedroom and into the hall, entering the main body of Vlad's castle to look for another way out.

He had already learned that the layout of this castle was an exact replica of the one belonging to his universe's Vlad, the only difference was the contents of the secret lab hidden under it, which in this reality was much more like a kennel for ghosts than the weapons development area that Danny was used to seeing.

He would have gone back there to free the trapped ghosts had the last of Vlad's current prisoners not been the poor unfortunate soul who had been eaten just before his turn.

Memories of those horrid moments struck Danny and he suddenly felt sick all over again. He had banged with all his strength on the thick glass of the containment tube he had been trapped in, but in the end all his effort had been for not. He hadn't been able to help the other ghost.

He didn't even know his name, but the hero's heart still felt guilty over the failure. Still, there was nothing for it now, he had to focus...he needed out, and fast. Danny shot down the halls at full speed, heading for the one place he knew wasn't ghost proofed: the front door.

As he entered the grand hall, the wondrous entrance came into view. He had entered the castle through them in ghost mode so he must be able it exit that way too. Ecto-energy charged around his fingers and a green blast shot towards the doors, disintegrating the hardwood and melting the bronze doorknobs. Hunks of molten metal hit the doorstep as Danny blasted passed them.

The cool night air hit his face and Danny breathed deeply, enjoying the sweet taste of freedom, even if he had no idea what such freedom meant when he was still stranded in this Parallel Universe. The large castle grounds unfolded before him, but Danny didn't stop to admire the scenery.

Head down and eyes closed, Danny flew passed the thick line of bushes marking the property's edge and into the starry sky.

* * *

A blow like that to the back of the head might have killed a normal human, but thanks to the enhanced healing properties found in ectoplasm, the hit only knocked the vampire out for half an hour.

Plasmius awoke lying on the carpeted floor, surrounded by settled dust and stone chips from cracks his body had left in the castle wall. His head pounded with a force that would shame the thunder god Thor, and his body felt like he had taken a detour through a combine harvester. He forced himself to his feet, rubbing his temples with the palm of one hand, willing the pain to go away.

He would have to reevaluate what had just happened and come up with a new plan, but for now he just needed a bottle full of aspirin and some time for his stolen healing powers to finish the job. Glancing down, Vlad noticed that he was still in his vampire form. He relaxed his grip on his hidden strength and his bluish-green skin faded back into a human-like beige. His black hair turned to silvery white and fell around his shoulders, his stolen power the only thing that made it stand on end in those two demonic spikes.

The red glow of his eyes winked out and was replaced by dark blue irises. His fangs retracted slightly, becoming small enough that they could be mistaken as just overly large canines. Vlad brushed his hair back with a hand and tied it loosely behind his head with a ribbon he kept around his wrist, to keep it out if his eyes.

He drew his cape up around his shoulders, wondering how much time he had lost to his blackout. Perhaps he should draw the blinds while he went to get his medicine, a nice blast of morning sun to the face would add to his rotten mood nicely. It wasn't as deadly as the legends claimed, but the slight burning sensation was just unpleasant enough to make the daytime intolerable for Vlad.

He took one last look at the damage to the room caused by the young ghost. Vlad had known the boy was powerful, but he hadn't been expecting anything like that strange vocal attack the teenager had unleashed. When, not if, he got his hands on the teen, he would have to do a few more experiments to discover what had made this manifestation so strong. If he could recreate it, or if the boy could lead him to more like him…

A throb in the back of his head cut Vlad's planning short, reminding him to take it easy on his tactical-genius brain for a bit. He stalked out of the room, a purpose in his step. As soon as he could think straight he would come up with a plan.

* * *

Vlad was very pleased when he saw the night was still young, even after the hour he had spent recovering, (unconscious or otherwise) it was still barley past midnight.

He sat down heavily in front the supercomputer nestled safely in the belly of his hidden underground lab. A specially designed keyboard slid out when he pressed a button and Vlad logged into the system with a practiced ease.

"Good evening, Sweetie!" the inbuilt AI chimed, greeting its master with pre-programed enthusiasm.

"Evening Deloris." Vlad replied, and he opened a few choice programs with a click of a mouse. Briefly he wondered if he should get a new personality for his virtual companion. Originally, he had molded her after his old colleague crush, Maddie, but had decided to change it after the memories became too painful.

It wouldn't be too hard to put in some more alterations. Maybe now he should go for something more wild and carefree. Maybe with a predisposition for low-cut tops...

"Loading complete," Deloris piped up, cutting into Vlad's thoughts about the new AI. The self-made billionaire shook his head and turned back to the task at hand, his eyes scanning over the satellite map of the eastern United States.

A small grin passed the vampire's lips when he saw the large red dot making its way along interstate 39. Not that far away then. If he was lucky, this little escape could be sorted out tonight. Vlad picked up a headset microphone that was resting on the computer's attached desk and slid it over his head.

He clicked on the little icon that would patch him through, counting the rings until the line was picked up, fingers drumming a pattern on the desk. After about five more rings there was a click and he was greeted by an amiable "Hey V-man, something up?"

Vlad cringed. He hated that damn nickname. "Yes actually," he began, pausing when he noticed the revving sound in the background. "Please tell me you're not trying to drive your motorbike and use a cell phone..."

The man on the other end of the line snorted, no doubt amused by Vlad's attempt at playing legal guardian. "Pulling over takes time, and if you're calling, you obviously need me somewhere, preferably fast."

Vlad had to admit he was right. Still, he should be making some kind of effort into being a good role model. "I bet you're not wearing a helmet either, your mother would surely have something to say about this."

"Well feel free to tell her next time you see her," came the deadpan response. "What do you want anyway?"

Vlad considered insisting he pull over first, but every second his new prize got further away from the castle, and his need to possess that ghost's powers was a little more pressing. He would just buy a hands-free headset for him after he located the runaway.

"I have a target for you," Vlad began, flipping through the information he had gathered on the ghost-boy. "I think you will find it to your liking" he added with a slight grin, knowing just how to entice the other.

"Ohh, Vladdy has something to challenge me then? It's been too long. I'm getting tired of shooting fish in a barrel."

Vald could just imagine the smug grin on his face. The vampire would call him cocky if he didn't know the man could live up to his own boasts. "I do indeed," Vlad responded, moving into the details that would get his cohort as excited about this catch as he. "I have received readings of scale seven ectoplasmic power, but from what I've seen of his abilities, the true number could be much closer to nine."

A low whistle came from the other end of the line. "Impressive. You mentioned it's a 'he' so the ghost is human-like?"

Vlad nodded, flipping to the picture he had taken after locking the boy up in one of his ghost containment tubes. The look of anger and fear on the boy's face was priceless. "He looks just like a human teenager, around 16 or 17 years old from what I could see. He has white hair, green eyes, and wears a skin-tight black and white jumpsuit."

A soft chuckle reverberated in his ear as the man on the bike put that together. "Quite the picture. Shouldn't be too hard to spot, but it is a big country. I'm hoping you have more than just a description?"

Vlad pressed a few buttons on his keyboard, his fanged grin widening considerably. "I have his ecto-signature. Our network has already pinged him and I'm uploading his location to your GPS." Vlad waited until he said this to press send. The information uploaded to the on-board computer of the specially made sport bike Vlad had given to him for his eighteenth birthday.

"You always think of everything, don't you?" the man on the other end of the phone line said.

"Naturally," Vlad replied. He leaned back in his chair, listening to the faint sound of the GPS suggesting a U- turn and then the screeching of tires as the man on the bike performed it illegally and likely just avoided being hit by an oncoming car.

Vlad winced. He really would have to start being stricter with him. If he lost his best ghost hunter in a crash he would have to go back to capturing his prey himself, and that was simply unthinkable.

He may not have any sway as a legal guardian since the boy reached adulthood, but Vlad was still his employer and if anything he had a right to protect his investment. He would deal with it right after this assignment was through. He wanted that ghost boy just enough to risk it.

"Hunter?" Vlad added, repressing a need to roll his eyes at the horribly uncreative codename, and waited for the obligatory "Yes, Vladdy?" before making his point. "Do bring that ghost to me quickly. We definitely don't want something this powerful roaming free for long. It could do some real damage."

Silence came from the other end of the line, and when Hunter's voice came again it had lost the air of self-confident levity that it normally wore. "You don't need to remind me. I won't let it hurt anyone on my watch."

"That's my boy." Vlad smirked and terminated the call with a concluding 'click'.

**A/N**

**Two things I want to mention real quick about this story, I've been working on it for about seven months and as of this moment it is almost completely written. So expect weekly updates to be prompt from this point onwards and don't worry about getting tied up in a story with no ending because this one already has it written. **

**Also I wanted to thank poltergeist for her lovely cover design for this fic and Dream Trance for Beta reading. **


	2. It's Never That Easy

**Chapter 2: It's Never That Easy **

It had just passed three in the morning when Hunter eased his sports bike behind a bush and pulled some braches over its shiny black paint-job. Five minutes to unpack his sniper rifle, two more to put it together, ten more to get in position. He made use of thick, unkempt grass for cover, staying out of sight of the five ghosts that were floating around what looked to be a fairly ordinary cave.

It was mounted in the rock face of a sizable cliff and settled in a small clearing in the picturesque Wisconsin woods. It would have made a nice centerpiece to a wilderness hiking trip, but Hunter severely doubted the ecto-manifestations around it were here to sightsee. A ring of trees lined the small circular clearing, cluttering the sightlines of the ghosts on guard duty and providing shadows from the moonlight.

At the moment the nineteen year old was lying flat on his stomach in those shadows, his black trench coat helping him blend seamlessly into the darkness. A hand brushed his fringe of short black hair out of his eyes before he lifted the gun up and gazed through the glass scope. The darkness that would have hindered his human vision fell away when he looked through it. The world exploded in Technicolor as the specially designed sight detected the ecto-energy level around the area and relayed its findings by coloring everything that came back positive in florescent green.

As expected, the five ghosts that were already visible lit up like haunted Christmas trees, but the background that was normal dark gray when you looked through the scope was absent. Instead the whole area was alight with a pale green glow. This could only mean that these five were just the tip of the iceberg. He must be outside some kind of hidden gathering place for the undead.

"Good place to hide, ghost kid," Hunter murmured, slightly impressed that his prey had the forethought to find safety in numbers. "Too bad it won't save you."

First things first though. He needed to take care of these weaklings before he could get to the real task at hand. Hunter's grip tightened on his gun, a smile forming on his lips as he welcomed the easy anticipation brought on by lying in wait, predicting the right moment to strike.

The crosshairs of his weapon lined up with the center of the first green shape and his smile morphed into a mischievous smirk. His fingers tightened around the trigger. The weapon shuttered a little but didn't make a sound as a miniature trap shot into the air at high speed. It connected with the ghost with a dull squelch and sucked him into the tiny metal case before he even had time to finish his cry of shock.

"This little piggy went to the market," Hunter murmured under his breath. He took aim at the second ghost, fired a second shot. "This little piggy stayed home…"

The second ghost vanished with a sharper scream. The other three were glancing around themselves in shock. None of them could tell where this assault was coming from.

"This little piggy had roost beef…"

Squelch. Whoosh. Click.

Only two left now, the smarter of the pair tried to make a break for it, but the forth shot caught him in the back.

"This little piggy had none..."

The last ghost backed against the stone wall of the cave, deep red eyes scanning the clearing. He noticed the small pinprick of moonlight reflecting off the ecto-sensing scope a second before the fifth trap buried itself in his chest.

"And this little ghostie went we-we-we all that way back to the ghost zone," Hunter finished and then chuckled at his own joke.

He pushed himself up and emerged from his hiding spot in the grass, brushing a few stray leaves from his font. He walked over to the collection of harmless cubes that were holding the raw ecto-energy of the cave's ex-guards, scooped them up and slipped them into his pocket. They were too petty a catch to bother sending back to Vlad. He would just toss them back into the ghost zone when he got home.

Hunter stepped back and eyed the cave. He slid his sniper rifle over his shoulder and replaced it with a short range capture-gun from his hip holster. The thick rock walls of the cave had been enough to interfere with Vlad's satellite tracking system, so he didn't know exactly how many enemies might be in there, only that their collective energy was enough to taint this whole area. His body tensed at the promise of a challenge, excited energy making him grip his weapon a little too hard.

Hunter approached the mouth of the cave, sticking close to one wall and trying to keep his footsteps as silent as possible. Having the element of surprise would be very useful to if a fight broke out, not to mention he didn't even know what he was up against. The darkness enveloped him like an old friend, years of skulking in dark corners for his night-loving quarry had the odd side-benefit of honing his night vision until he could navigate his way around almost any darkened room.

He avoided a stray branch cast across the floor. He crouched low, balancing his weight on the front of his feet, eyes wide open for any unfriendly that might cross his path.

After he passed the narrow entranceway the cave started to widen out. Lights mounted on the hanging stalactites illuminated the belly of the cave, but hunter shrank away from them; he wasn't much of a spotlight person.

He kept slinking along the far wall, passing a few wooden crates that were pushed against the wall. He noticed a shipping label on one of them that indicated they were meant to be delivered to a hardware store in Minnesota. Looks like the shipment had some ghost-related delays.

It didn't take long after that to learn what the ghosts had done with the supplies. Hunter nearly tripped over the first of the steps leading into a crudely constructed balcony along the edge of the cave, conveniently overlooking the large middle area he was trying to get a good glance at.

The construction quality of the balcony looked eerily similar to the treehouse that Hunter had built with his best friend when they were 12. No two planks lined up just right and nails stuck out at random. The only thing holding it together seemed to be a whole lot of carpenter's glue and wishful thinking.

It looked far from safe, but it would probably hold his weight for now. After all, even the treehouse had managed to last a few good months before it collapsed…although that little accident had sent both of them to the hospital with identical wrist fractures. No wonder people used to tease them about sharing everything.

Hunter allowed himself to muse for a second longer, pulling away as soon as the happy memories gave way to the miserable ones. He pushed the feelings back and locked them back in his little mental box. He had spent far too long with his head stuck in the past. Concentrate on the here and now and let the memories be forgotten. Even if it meant letting go of the happy ones, at least he would be free from the bad.

Right now he was hunting, closing in on his pray. Soon he would see what kind of power that little teen was packing, and he was going to relish the chance to best him. Then once he had the boy it would be a simple matter to remove him from existence before he had a chance to use his power against humanity.

It was a cruel practice yes, but if it meant that no one else would have to suffer what he had…it was worth it.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Hunter mounted the first step, shifting his weight slowly from foot to foot so that he could avoid both an unexpected creek of wood or a badly constructed step collapsing under his weight.

He reached the top step with minimal trouble, but a slight vibration from his wrist had him reaching for his gun before he managed the last step. He bent at the knees and flattened himself against the stairs. He risked a quick glance down at his watch. The glowing letters mounted just above the screen read 'ghost sense' and below the label the readout told Hunter that another low level apparition was less than 5 feet away from his current position.

A second later it was in eyeshot, a nasty looking animal imitator ghost that seemed to be going for a mix between a beaver, an octopus, and a monkey. Hunter would never understand why they couldn't just pick one; mixing stuff together made you look more revolting then scary.

It was floating along the small narrow pathway towards the half-concealed Hunter, but its attention was completely focused on the events unfolding on the main chamber. No doubt it was meant to be on guard duty, but it was doing a very poor job of it.

Hunter took it upon himself to show the ghost the error of its ways. He drew himself up and took aim. The movement caught the animal ghost's attention. Red eyes widened and a high-pitched squeak meshed with the sound of a miniature ghost portal opening somewhere inside its chest. Half a second later it was sucked it inside and the portal closed with a resounding POP.

Hunter froze, waiting to see if the commotion had alerted any of the spirits to his presence. He picked out the distinct echoing sound of someone yelling, but nothing coming from any closer than the cave's center.

Curiosity took over and Hunter stepped onto the platform, risking a glace over the edge of the balcony.

The first thing he spotted was his prey—the shock of white hair and peach skin made the teen stand out like a sore thumb among the crowd of green and blue skinned ghosts. Hunter almost wouldn't have believed he was a ghost at all had he not been floating a few feet about the cave floor, surrounded by the distinct spectral aura.

Vlad hadn't been exaggerating about the outfit. He had seen many young female specters going for skin tight, but never any boys before. It didn't look like it was supposed to be provocative either, just functional. It reminded him strongly of the outfits worn by superheroes in comic books, a simple layer that allowed for full freedom of movement.

Hunter would have gone on to wonder why exactly this ghost was taking fashion tips from Spiderman but he was beginning to pick out other familiar faces among the assembled ghosts.

The white-haired teen was waving his arms in the air wildly, trying to explain something to a stone faced Skulker. The fire haired ex-pop star Ember was floating near his shoulder, looking a fair bit more serious than Hunter remembered seeing her last time they parted ways. She had traded in the revealing clothing for long baggy pants and what looked like jacket made of Kevlar armor.

He hadn't expected her to learn so thoroughly from her last capture. She wouldn't be as easy to bring down a second time. Still, he didn't regret cutting her a deal; that night had been worth it.

There were others too, a few ghosts strong enough to be worth remembering. (Well, besides the Box Ghost. He was only memorable because he took to yelling his name at the top of his lungs.) The biker ghost Johnny and his girlfriend Kitty were sitting on the large wooden table (same construction quality as the balcony) in the middle of what looked like a meeting room.

Across from them, Ghost Writer was glancing over a book and comparing it to a map lying open in front of him. Hunter was surprised to see him. Forced out of his library and deprived of his reality keyboard, the writer had lost most of his ability to do any direct damage to anyone. The fact that he was part of the team meant that the ghosts realized they needed brains as well as brawn.

Hunter knew from experience that when ghosts formulated plans it never boded well for him.

There were many specters he didn't recognize hanging on the fringes, all looking like they were ready for some sort of battle. Armor was common as were weapons, and Hunter began to notice the strange symbols sewn onto the ghosts' clothing. It must be some kind of emblem, which could only mean that this group had been organized for a fair amount of time.

All eyes were on the ghost teen at the moment, and judging by the looks he was getting, no one liked whatever he was suggesting. Still, it didn't look like they were going to come to blows over it. Pity, he could have used the moment of confusion to snatch the white-haired ghost-boy and take him somewhere more private.

Hunter was never one to doubt his own skills, but he also wasn't stupid. A nice collection of what remained of his most powerful enemies would be a fair challenge. Even without what must have been at least thirty minor specters ready to claw at his ankles.

It didn't take a genius to realize that starting a fight right now wouldn't end well; it was time to consider his other options. Hunter ducked back down behind the lip of the balcony and rested his weight against the railing, quickly attempting to put together a plan B.

He already had the ghost teen's ecto-signature; he could track him across the whole United States without even lifting a finger. Hunter hated to let his prey slip through his fingers, and he liked the thought of retreating even less, but it was still a better plan than getting himself killed.

The only problem with that idea was that he still didn't know what these ghosts were planning. Whatever it was it looked big and would likely end up biting him in the ass sooner or later. He would never forgive himself if he retreated now and they ended up launching an attack on a city-center or any other populated area.

So, strategy and self-preservation dictated he retreat, while honor and curiosity compelled him to stay. Tough decision… if only he could hear what was being said.

Hunter had just decided to try moving to a closer hiding spot around the same time the shoddily contracted balcony railing started creaking. He had just enough time to wonder where the sound was coming from when the construction buckled with a loud crack. Hunter had been placing just enough of his weight on the balcony that the sudden loss caused him to lose his balance, leaving him and the chuck of banister to crash unceremoniously to the cave floor.

The ghost hunter's first thought once the world stopped spinning was somewhere along the lines of 'damn fucking hell that hurt' his second was a slightly calmer 'I hope no one saw that'.

Unfortunately when he opened his eyes and forced himself shakily to his feet, it was obvious that absolutely everyone had seen that. Hunter took a step back and drew his rifle from his back, it was completely useless at short range but he had lost his smaller gun in the crash. He would rather have an impractical weapon than none at all.

From somewhere in the crowd of ghosts someone gasped in shock, followed by a frightened whisper of 'the Hunter' that was soon picked up by other members of the group, passing through the crowd like a wave.

The ghost boy turned to Skulker, "That's him?" he asked, green eyes flicking back and forth between the two hunters.

"Yes, that's him," Skulker's muttered back, his posture tense and his eyes never leaving his enemy.

"He doesn't look that scary," the white haired teen observed, obviously aware of how all the other ghosts were beginning to slink away or cower in terror.

"Neither do you, kid," Hunter scoffed, eyeing the rather scrawny looking teen that was supposedly packing a power level comparable to the most elite members of the undead.

"Looks can be deceiving, on both counts," Skulker interrupted gruffly, cutting off the ghost boy's response. By now Skulker seemed to have realized that Hunter was not about to unleash some kind of devastating attack and he risked turning his back to yell at Ember, "I thought you said you weren't followed!"

The ex-pop star snapped out of the hateful glare she was giving the human, her repressed anger only adding fuel to her own ignition of being accused. "We weren't!" she shouted. "The only way he could have found us is if he was tracking someone's ecto-signature and all of us are clean… unless…" She trailed off, and suddenly the attention of the room was back on the boy in the jumpsuit.

The teen cringed and bit his bottom lip. "Um…I know this is a bad time…but what's an ecto-signature?"

The question hung in the air a moment before the whole cave broke out into a second round of yelling with the poor teen at the epicenter of the commotion.

Hunter watched the events unfold and shook his head, chuckling softly to himself. Try as they might to organize, ghosts were still ghosts. Strong headed, stubborn, shortsighted, and, most importantly, selfish. Things may not have been going his way so far, but he just had an idea that would allow him to walk out of there and take this green-eyed prey with him.

He spotted his lost gun under the splintered wood of the broken banister and scooped it up, flicking the switch on the side to change its ammunition from mini-portal to concussive blast. He backed up a little bit and pointed the business end of the gun at the roof of the cave and pulled the trigger.

A blast rang out in the cave, echoing off the walls, amplifying the sound and making everyone within earshot lapse into stunned silence. Not five seconds later a chuck of rock about the size of a large dog fell from the cave ceiling and landed with an earsplitting thud a few feet away from Hunter. Reminding himself to never, ever, try that again, Hunter pretended he didn't notice that he almost got flattened and launched into his newly formulated plan C.

"Listen…" he began, pausing to make sure they were all ears. "I don't particularly care about whatever you ghosts are doing down here, I'm just here for him." Hunter pointed the end of his gun at the ghost teen, Hunter's blue eyes locking with the glowing green ones of his prey. The young ghost looked slightly taken aback but defiant and nowhere near afraid.

From that split second of eye contact, Hunter knew he was going to get a good fight out of this one. Those eyes belonged to the kind of soul that wouldn't give up 'til he was seconds away from his last breath.

Hunter tore his eyes away from his new plaything and observed how the other ghosts were regarding the teen. Just as he had hoped, the gathered undead were looking at him with disdain, blaming him for leading their enemy into their hideaway. So predictable…

"I'll make you a deal," Hunter offered, turning to Skulker and purposefully ignoring the ghost teen. "Let me take the boy and I'll walk out of here. I'll forget this place ever existed, and things won't have to get ugly."

"What?" the white haired boy cried indignantly, suitably angered at the very idea of being offered as collateral. Hunter didn't even bat an eyelid, keeping his focus on Skulker. Let the boy have a tantrum; the grown-ups were talking right now.

Skulker considered the offer for a moment, looking over his shoulder to the rest of his militia. The vast majority were either nodding their heads in agreement or jeering at the poor boy. Hunter's timing had been good, whatever this ghost teen had been suggesting before he crashed in, it had obviously not endeared him to the majority.

Ghostwriter looked up from his book, peering at them over his spectacles like they were encroaching on his reading time. "The way I see it, if the ghost boy won't co-operate with us the Hunter might as well take him." His suggestion earned a few agreeing nods from Kitty and Jonny.

Skulker turned to Ember, silently asking for her opinion. The blue flames that she had in place of hair flared, mimicking her mood. Ignoring Skulker, she addressed the ghost boy behind him. "Sorry, dipstick, but if he's on your tail and has a lock on your signature, you're officially useless no matter how powerful you are."

A murmur of agreement went up among the ghosts and Skulker made his decision. "Do you swear on your honor as a hunter that you will not return?" he asked floating down so he could look the human in the eyes.

"…wait! You can't just—" the ghost boy interrupted, only to be hushed by the others.

"I do," Hunter replied with all the seriousness of a man agreeing to his wedding vows.

"Then you may take him," Skulker consented.

No sooner had the words left his lips than he and the other ghosts started getting out of the way as quickly as they could. Leaving the teen in the middle of the circle with Hunter, questioning ghostly eyes waiting to see what would happen next.

Hunter watched as the ghost boy looked around, his expression of anger barley hiding his distress at being abandoned so readily. Hunter's hand tightened around the handle of his pistol and he casually changed the ammo setting to the third option.

White gloves began glowing with ecto-energy and the ghost boy visibly tensed, ready for a fight but seemingly unwilling to make the first move. Hunter lifted his gun and shot twice in two quick motions. The ghost boy managed to dodge the first shot, but in doing so put himself into the path of the second.

Luminous blue rope sprang from the point of contact. They wrapped around arms and legs at random and tightened, tying the ghost boy tighter than a Christmas goose. Disoriented by the sudden uselessness of his limbs, the teen fell to the cave floor, lying there stunned for a moment before he began fighting against his bonds viciously.

Hunter walked over to the ghost, his footsteps crunching on the thin coating of leaves and dirt that lined the cave, the sound echoing and mixing in with the short grunts coming from the struggling ghost boy.

"Save your energy." Hunter smirked and knelt beside the fallen ghost boy, lacing his fingers through the rope and pulling his prey up to eye level. "That line is coated with a specially tested ecto-plasmic resin. No ghost can break it."

"The hell I can't!" the ghost boy spat, but Hunter saw the speck of confusion enter the green eyes glaring at him. His fingers found his pocket and he fished a small circular device form it. The ghost boy's struggling ceased for the moment, but mostly so he could concentrate on yelling at hunter. "It could be uranium coated dynamite for all I care, I'm not going to let y—"

Hunter located the metal ball halfway through the ghost boy's sentence and proceeded to shove the orb into his mouth. The internal mechanism activated, and Hunter watched as it unleashed its own tethers around the boy's head, the device strapping itself neatly into place.

Hunter let himself enjoy the shocked expression on the white-haired teen's face for a few seconds before he hauled the ghost up by his bounds and tossed him over his shoulder. The ghost's natural disregard for gravity made him very easy to carry.

A disappointed murmur went up through the crowd. They had been hoping for more of a fight. Little did they know there still would be one, just not in front of a crowd of potentially lethal spectators and not when his reputation might be at stake.

Capturing the one they considered abnormally strong with a few dirty tricks would win him enough fear points to keep any specter rattling in his boots the moment they heard him coming. If anything had been proven by the fact that he was being allowed to walk out of there alive, it was that being the most feared ghost hunter in the central United States had its advantages.

His grip tightened around the jumpsuit-clad legs, keeping the thrashing boy from falling off his shoulder as he strode out the cave. It seemed that this ghost was every bit as stubborn as Hunter was hoping. He had thought it before but this time it bore repeating, Hunter was defiantly going to enjoy this.

**A/N**

**Sorry if that ending seemed a little anticlimactic, I'm mostly just setting up for the epic battle in chapter 3 if hunter didn't make that painfully obvious.**

**Also huge thanks to dream trance for staying up till 3am to edit this so I could post on time!**


	3. A Test of Will

**Chapter 3: A Test of Will**

Danny Phantom was, in a word, pissed.

He was pissed at himself for letting himself be captured so easily, he was pissed at the other ghosts for being about as dependable as a bulletproof vest made out of cardboard, he was pissed that he was likely going to be brought right back to Vlad to become a nutritious ghost snack, and last but most importantly, he was pissed at that trench-coat-wearing nutjob that had manhandled him for the past hour and was now making him lie face down in an abandoned field while he did who-knew-what.

Actually why not just admit he was pissed at this whole damn universe. That would save a lot of time. Danny rested his head against the cool grass. He was so very tired of stewing in his own thoughts, and this strange behavior he had to endure from the ghost hunter wasn't helping at all.

From what Skulker had told him about "the hunter," he knew only two things about this man. One, he worked for Vlad and two, he was a major badass. Although that second part was up for debate because so far Danny had seen him break a balcony, fall on his ass, and almost crush himself with his own melodramatics.

On the other hand, he had tracked him down within a matter of hours, had convinced the other ghosts to abandon him, and had captured him embarrassingly quick. Although that last one was only because of this stupid ghost-proof line, which, much to Danny's surprise, looked exactly like the Fenton Fisher line.

He was lucky the Fenton Fisher jammed so often…If his dad had managed to use it properly he might have actually stood a chance at capturing Danny Phantom.

Danny tugged against his bonds again, but they still weren't budging. His only choice was to try relaxing and hope to hell he got a moment to escape soon. He had managed to get away from vamp-Fruitloop once and he could do it again...right?

The rub to that plan only came when Danny realized he was not being taken back to the fruitloop. At least not yet…to be honest that was the fact that upset him the most. Just when he thought he had some idea of how this universe functions, he ends up face down and tied up in a random fucking field…

So far all he had by way of information was a whispered "Don't worry, this isn't over yet" from Hunter, and despite the 'don't worry' part in the statement, it was not reassuring.

A hand grabbed the rope crossing his back and Danny found himself turned over onto his backside. The moon and the stars gazed down on him, and for a moment Danny stared back, amazed at how clear and bright they looked. The stars only look that bright when you are miles away from any kind of civilization, which probably meant he was still in the less populated part of Wisconsin.

The _snap_ of a cord being cut made Danny sit up suddenly, his eyes falling to his captor and the ridiculously sharp-looking knife he was cutting the line with.

The teenager didn't know whether he was relieved, confused, or apprehensive. It just didn't make any sense. Why would this ghost hunter go through the effort of tracking him down just so he could take him out into a field and let him go.

Then again, if he was the Fruitloop's errand boy it was likely he was just as crazy as Vlad himself. This was probably just a small part of a greater plan. If there was ever a time to look a gift horse in the mouth, this was it.

A few more of his restraints were cut, giving enough leeway for Danny to sit up fully. The hunter flashed him a self-satisfied smirk and reached towards Danny's head. The teen resisted the urge to pull away, letting the elder press some buttons on the back of the gag in his mouth. The machine beeped and the cord keeping it in place retracted with a snap, letting the ball fall into Hunter's waiting hand.

The first thing Danny did with his freed mouth was take a very deep breath, pausing after to run his tongue across the back of his teeth, wishing he had something to get the taste of metal out of his mouth.

He tugged a little bit on the ropes, but they still weren't loose enough to escape, leaving him to wait as they were removed one-by one. Danny had a feeling that it would be better to wait until his bounds were removed before he started to question this odd change of heart, but his curiosity had no mind for his silly logic.

"Why are you letting me go?" Danny asked, green eyes glaring suspiciously at the older male.

The hunter didn't reply for a second, finishing cutting a few more ropes before he looked up at his captive. "I'm not." He chuckled darkly and titled his wrist, revealing a supped up digital watch.

Before Danny could ask him what he meant by that, Hunter activated one of the mechanisms in his watch and a glowing green force field blazed into life around the two of them, moving at a rapid pace until it formed a large dome a good 200 meters around the empty field. Danny recognized the ghost shield on sight, his stomach twisting in a tight little knot as his misgivings were confirmed.

"I'm not letting you go…more like giving you a second chance," Hunter explained, slitting the last of the ropes. Danny took to the air as soon as he felt the rope loosen, but he remained close enough to talk to his captor, both out of curiosity and because there wasn't anywhere else he could really go with the shield in place.

Danny scanned the dome, looking for the generator that was emitting the force field. Hunter seemed to guess what he was thinking though and interrupted his thoughts.

"The shield is powered off my bike. You know, the one just outside the boundary of the glowing green wall?" He smirked and pointed to it. True to his words, it was just outside the area Danny could go without slamming into a force more shatterproof to him in ghost form than a brick wall. "So, no, you can't just smash that and get out of here," Hunter chimed, making Danny cringe a little when his exact thoughts were guessed for a second time tonight. What was this guy, a damn mind reader?

"What exactly do you want?" Danny huffed, crossing his arms over his chest in mild frustration.

Hunter raised an eyebrow at him, looking genuinely surprised at the question. "Isn't it obvious? I want to fight."

"Fight?" Danny exclaimed, not sure if he was more surprised or incredulous. "Not that I don't appreciate the opportunity to kick your ass, but if I attack you I'll just get shot with your blaster thing and end up tied up again."

Danny wasn't close enough to be certain, but he could have sworn the hunter rolled his eyes. "Why would I bother letting you go if I was just going to use the same tactics to capture you again?"

"I don't know…maybe it's because you're crazy. You work for Vlad, so I think that automatically qualifies you as crazy," Danny snapped, the situation beginning to put a strain on his frayed nerves.

Hunter seemed to have the same sentiment. He rested his head against the palm of his hand and sighed exasperatedly. "Oh, this is giving me a headache…you're the only ghost I've ever met who would even think twice about fighting back. I don't know whether that makes you noble or just a coward."

"Hey!" Danny shouted automatically, but he didn't have time to think of a better comeback to add before Hunter interrupted him again.

"Listen," he began, rolling up his sleeve and pointing to his watch. "There is only one way out of here, and that's by taking this watch from me and deactivating the shield."

Danny looked from the watch to the man wearing it, his green eyes narrowing. "Let me guess," he muttered, already beginning to see where this was going, "if I don't you're going to tie me back up and take me to Vlad."

"That's about right." Hunter grinned, obviously pleased he had finally managed to get the message across.

"Fine," Danny decided, starting to gather up power in the palms of his hands and backing up to give himself more room. Normally he didn't like to fight or injure humans, but if Hunter was deliberately putting himself between him and freedom, there wasn't much he could do.

"Wonderful!" Hunter called, and then addressing Danny as if they were about to partake in a waltz instead of battle to the death, "Would you like to lead or shall I?" Danny didn't bother to respond and thrust his hand forward, emitting a beam of green energy that shot through the air towards Hunter.

A flash of black material and Hunter was gone, the tail of his trench coat barley missing getting singed as he leapt out of the way. "Nice power, but you need to work on your aim!" Hunter suggested, neatly dodging the next few shots with a duck and a sideways roll.

Danny growled under his breath and sent five more shots at the human in quick order, placing them just far enough away that the human couldn't possibly dodge all of them.

The forth blast hit Hunter in the torso and he stumbled back, arms crossed over his chest for a second before he straightened up again. The white shirt he wore under his coat had been burned away by the ecto-energy, exposing a gold and amethyst amulet around his neck, identical to the ecto-energy-sapping one that Vlad of this universe had been wearing.

_Well shit…_

"That's not fair, you're immune to my shots!" Danny yelled indigently. The human straightened, his ice blue eyes focusing on the teen. "Fair?" He laughed humorlessly and drew his pistol from its holster on his hip, aiming it at Danny's chest. "Life's not fair kid, get used to it. This isn't some kind of game where you can call 'time out' when you're losing." He fired a shot and Danny blocked it with a shield, the loud bang as the shot hit the barrier filling the still night air. "If you're as powerful as they say you are, you'll come up with something more creative than ecto-blasts," Hunter concluded and then let off some rapid fire shots at the floating ghost.

Danny dodged with just as much finesse as Hunter had seconds ago, but the shockwave from the exploding shots managed to rattle him enough that he lost his concentration and soon one of the blasts hit him.

Of course, Danny didn't have a magic amulet to save him from the blast so he was treated to an explosion of pain across his front and the dull thump as his limp body hit the grass.

It was only enough to keep him down for a second, though, he was made of tougher stuff than that. He pushed himself up on the grass, and green eyes locked on Hunter. Danny pointed his finger and a small beam of energy shot from the tip.

Hunter cried out in pain and clutched his hand to his chest. His gun went flying over his shoulder and passed through the ghost shield, skidding to a halt beside the back tire of his sports bike.

The human half-turned to see where the weapon landed, but didn't take his eyes off his opponent for long to ponder its loss. He flexed his fingers, nodding when he found them undamaged.

"How's that for creative?" Danny smirked, crossing his arms over his chest and floating back into the air.

Hunter raised an eyebrow at the ghost. "Clever maybe, creative no." He shrugged casually and ran his eyes over the young ghost, making Danny feel a little uncomfortable all of a sudden. "But you know, all you've done is turned this into a close-quarters battle…" Hunter lowered his body into a fighting pose that Danny recognized as one of his mother's ghost hunting standbys. "The question is how good are you with your fists?"

Danny's felt a low bubble of anger in his gut. Didn't this guy ever just shut up and fight? "How about you tell me after you're nursing the bruises I leave?" Danny shot back and then threw himself at the human at top speed, fists first.

Hunter shifted his weight and turned oh his heel, moving out of the path of the charging ghost. Danny blasted passed him, landed on the grass beside his opponent and changed direction faster than the human could blink. Less than a foot away now, Danny lashed out. Hunter reacted quickly and blocked the punch with his forearm, using his other hand to throw a counter-punch that forced Danny to pull away to avoid getting hit.

Green and blue eyes locked, the two at eye level since Danny's floating compensated for the few inches Hunter had over him. Both males had their hands up but only Hunter was smiling. With a small shiver Danny realized that the elder was enjoying this. In Hunter's mind, he was just a cat batting at a mouse, trying to have as much fun with it as possible before snapping its neck and bringing the lifeless body to its master as a gift.

The thought sparked a deep pang of resentment in the teen, his determination doubling as he promised himself he would show the hunter that he was not a ghost to be messed with. He had beaten evil beings that would make this smug bastard quake in his boots. He was Danny flipping Phantom for heaven's sake.

Danny felt himself lunge forward, making like he was going for the face again. Hunter blocked and Danny dived, the grass brushing against his suit as he flew between Hunter's legs. He came up behind the human and grabbed him by the back of his trench coat. Danny heaved him into the air, spun around and tossed him towards the center of the ghost shield dome like a large, lumpy shot-put.

The human landed in a heap and Danny didn't waste a second before he was on him again. One hand grabbed what was left of Hunter's shirt and the other pulled back before Danny loosed another punch, landing a few good hits to the human before Hunter's own fist managed to find Danny's gut.

The ghost gasped, leaving himself open to the hand that grabbed his shoulder and pulled his down as Hunter attempted to gain the advantage. Danny kicked and punched, but the close proximity made getting the space needed to put any power behind his shots difficult. He did manage to get a solid hit to Hunters face, as evidenced by the split lip the human now sported and the blood stain on his glove.

Eventually the bigger and heavier man managed to gain the upper hand, and Danny was pinned to the ground, Hunter's weight pressing down on him. He tried to phase through the human, but the amulet simply sucked away the expelled ecto-energy before it could alter his form.

Danny was left to glare up at the man, struggling to catch his breath, sweat making his suit cling close to his body, his heart beating much too fast inside his chest, all three factors making the situation even more uncomfortable than it already was.

"Got to tell you kid, you're every bit as good as everyone keeps telling me you are..." Hunter purred—honest to god purred. Danny was fairly sure that was not a proper way to talk to your enemies after a fight, and in light of this fact he decided it would be wise to struggle a little harder against the human's hold.

"Yeah…thanks…" Danny panted, finding it a little difficult to be sarcastic and breathe at the same time. Hunter shifted his weight a little, allowing Danny a little more room to recover, no doubt wondering why a ghost would be so adamant on pretending he still needed air to survive.

He seemed to have more pressing questions, though, because once Danny caught his breath he leaned closer again and asked, "So…you got a name? Or would you prefer I keep calling you Ghost Boy?"

At first, Danny wasn't sure whether or not the human was joking. It seemed like such a strange thing to ask right after you finished beating the shit out of someone. Danny didn't exactly feel inclined to chit-chat at the moment, but he had to admit that what he had heard about this human ghost hunter, coupled with his strange behavior, had sparked his own curiosity.

"Yes I have a name…but I'll only share if you tell me yours first," Danny offered, almost forgetting to add in an extra, "or was your mother really unoriginal enough to name you Hunter?"

The older human snorted in bemusement. "Was that supposed to be an insult?" he asked, looking genuinely disappointed in the downturn in banter quality. "You must be getting tired..."

"I'm not the one asking stupid questions instead of fighting," Danny huffed, tugging extra hard on his pinned wrists and growling in frustration when they didn't budge an inch.

"Sometimes asking questions can be more valuable than kicking butt," Hunter offered, musing over it like it was some kind of sagely advice that his tiny teen mind should be blown over by. More like pretentious bullshit if you asked Danny.

Unaware of the poisonous thoughts of the ghost under him, Hunter kept talking, "Knowledge is power, that's why I don't allow my enemies to know anything about me."

Danny stopped listening at this point, entertaining himself by deciding what part of Hunter he was going to hit next after he was free again.

…then the human's next line brought his whole world crashing to a screaming halt.

"…but since you're such a pretty little thing, I'll let you know my real name…" Hunter grinned. That line in itself was really creepy admittedly, but the real shocker came before Danny even had a second to think about that. "It's Daniel, Daniel Fenton...or Danny if you prefer."

Green eyes winded and the ghost boy's jaw dropped. His first thought was that the human was lying, he couldn't be Danny Fenton. There was only one Danny Fenton and that was him! ...But then he remembered this was an alternate time line, and then the truth hit him like a charging rhino.

Blue eyes, black hair, the way he moved, the endless banter as they fought…In Danny's mind's eyes, the space between them became a mirror and the similar looks threw him for a loop. How the heck had he not seen that before? If not for a few years of ageing and the green eyes and white hair that came with his ghost powers, they would be twins.

Danny's mind backpedaled through the six hours he had spent in this reality, trying to reverse engineer this knowledge into everything else he had learned about this place. The alternate Vlad had been a bit of a clue and he had wondered what this universe's version of himself would look like, but this didn't make any sense…

Why was his alternate self in cahoots with Vlad? Why was he riding a motorcycle and hunting ghosts? Where were alternate reality Mom, Dad and Jazz? Why were they letting him ghost hunt all on his own? Did they even know what alternate Danny was doing out here? ...All of Hunter's gear was sleek and effective, so it couldn't be Fenton Tec..

Danny had officially spaced out at this point, his mind so preoccupied with trying to come to terms with the new knowledge that he didn't realize he was staring blankly at Hunter, who was becoming increasingly annoyed at the lack of attention from his prey.

"So, are you going to hold up you end of the deal?" Hunter prompted, the grip around Danny's wrists tightening as he leaned closer to the ghost.

"Ummm…what?" Danny blinked, confused after being pulled from his thoughts about what had happened to the alternate reality Danny's fashion taste.

"Your name?" Hunter reminded him, a fair bit of exasperation in his tone.

Danny flinched. Shit…shitshitshitshit…He couldn't tell Hunter his name now…Best case scenario he would think he was lying. Worst case, he would think he was lying and punch him in the face for being a smart ass.

Sure he could transform back, but what would that prove? A lot of ghosts could alter their appearance. If Danny was Hunter—which he was—he would just assume his enemy was trying to mess with him by pretending to be a younger him. Ghosts were pulling shit like that all the time…

Danny knew he was taking too long to answer again and he quickly tried to find something he could say without giving away their shared identity. "My...um…my name's Phantom," Danny answered shakily, realizing he should have probably thought about it more right after he spoke.

"Phantom?" Hunter repeated, raising his eyebrows at the pinned ghost.

Danny nodded slightly trying to look like he was confident that Phantom was his one and only name.

"…And you called Hunter unoriginal," the human scoffed, not giving Danny a chance to respond before releasing the ghost boy and climbing to his feet. The teenager sat up, slightly confused but also wary. Hunter never gave up the upper hand without a catch. "If you're counting, this is the third chance I've given you to best me, don't expect to get a fourth…" Hunter smirked, ready for a second round despite the bruises he had already gained.

With the recent revelation Danny had almost forgotten they were fighting at all, not to mention how the price for losing was being served up on a silver platter to Count Vladimir. Danny struggled to his feet, realizing with a bit of resentment that both of the older selves that he had had the misfortune of coming into contact with were complete assholes. He didn't know what life lesson he was supposed to draw from that exactly, but it sure didn't boost his self-confidence much.

Danny took a second to stretch. The momentary break had given his healing factor enough time to stich up all of the minor wounds he had suffered and he was ready for another round. This time though he would be carful. He needed to have his focus if he wanted to have any chance of landing a hit. Well, that or keep using dirty tricks…

Actually Danny quite liked the sound of that second option; no one said he had to play fair, especially since Hunter wasn't. He just needed to focus, remember that Danny Phantom always came out on top. He was the hero after all, and good always wins.

...right?

* * *

Green ectoplasm seeped from a large cut across Danny's chest. The wound wasn't too deep but it still hurt. He should have remembered the knife, after all Hunter had used it to sever the ghosts bonds earlier that night. They had been fighting with nothing more than their fists and feet for so long Danny had forgotten the possibility of Hunter hiding any more surprises in his coat and now he paid the price.

The specially tested metal edge pressed against his throat, a weapon capable of rending both human and ghost flesh with ease. Hunter pressed the blade forward and Danny tried to pull away, his head hitting the hard bark of the tree he was shoved up against.

The soft whine of an electric field around the ghost shield was a low undertone to the heavy panting of both males, and the closeness of the energy field made Danny's flesh crawl. The glowing green wall ended just beyond the next few trees, marking the edge of the clearing-turned-battlefield. The field of green grass was singed in some places and dented in others, earth upturned by blasts, ectoplasm-based or otherwise.

But it wasn't just the area that looked like it had been through hell. Both Hunter's coat and Danny's suit were disheveled and covered in bloodstains both human and ghost, drawn from countless minor injuries and smeared on the other in the heat of combat.

Danny glared at Hunter but was still too winded to do anything more than that, plus the knife pressed to his juggler was a strong incentive not to move too much. Hunter seemed to be in the same state, struggling to recover as he returned from what must have been an incredible adrenaline high. Danny had never seen a human go toe-to-toe with a ghost for so long before. He would have been impressed that his alternate self had turned into such an ass kicker if it wasn't his own ass getting kicked at the moment.

Hunter grinned, a wide unnerving grin, and Danny remembered that besides being a good fighter his alternate self was also completely fucking crazy. "That's your third strike," Hunter informed the ghost boy, speaking completely on the exhale. "Looks like I've come out on top again…"

Suddenly, the knife under Danny's chin was yanked away and something hard and blunt shoved against his tummy. When he looked down, Danny saw the large circular container being pressed business end first against his body. It was gray with green lights mounted on the bottom. Danny gazed at it for a second, but then he noticed the large button on the side and the display indicator set to 'capture'.

Fuck…Fenton Thermos...

"Thanks for the dance, little Phantom," Hunter murmured, pressing closer to the squirming ghost boy and making sure to keep his finger on the trigger. "Been a while since I've had that much fun..."

Danny's whole body tightened in panic. He couldn't believe he had lost… no, there was no way he could have lost! That's not how it works. After he gave it his all he was supposed to win. He was the hero, and heroes don't lose!

Then the second wave of fear hit as Danny realized the fate that would befall him as soon as Hunter pressed that button. Trapped in a sudden wave of hopelessness, Danny told himself that he wouldn't be able to escape Vlad again, that this time he would end up a dried up husk just like all the others.

The complete and utter terror Danny felt was clear in every movement. He pushed against Hunter with everything he had left, but the action only widened Hunters grin and earned him a slam against the hard tree trunk.

Danny didn't even register the blow. He was too busy lashing out at every chance he got, fighting like a wild animal without any thought for his actions, only the desperate need to get away. Then a thought crossed Danny's mind and it was almost enough to make him halt his desperate bid for freedom.

'_Why hasn't he just pressed the button yet?'_ Danny looked back up at Hunter and was met with that horrible grin again. '_Unless…he's dragging this out just to watch me squirm…'_

Danny's green eyes shot open and his temper—barley under control at the best of times—flared up like someone had just pulled the trigger on a flamethrower.

Hunter was enjoying this, he enjoyed all of it! This was all just a set up to feed his sick ghost hunting obsession. He had danced like a puppet as Hunter dangled a vague hope of escape above his head like a carrot, time ticking away until the novelty wore off and it was thermos time for ghost boy. The fact that he shared a name and identity with this sadistic fuck only made it that much worse.

Danny was suddenly filled with pure, unrelenting hatred. He grit his teeth, his ghostly energy churning away inside him, power rushing through his veins. His body went slack, pressure mounting in his chest, emotion and energy welling up inside him, looking for a way out. Hunter noticed the change in his prey, and an emotion that looked strangely like concern took over his features.

'_Fucker is probably just disappointed that he doesn't get to keep watching me fight for my life,' _Danny thought. The thin light form his ghostly aura dimmed as his power centered in his core. The pressure kept mounting driving back thought and reason, leaving only a single urge, the need to unleash the pent up emotion and energy.

He felt like he was going to scream… Then, for the second time that night, Danny took a deep breath and let loose with everything he had.

* * *

Five miles away a flock of birds were startled by an echoing wail. With a flash of feathers they abandoned the tree they had been roosting in and flew out across the cool black waters of the small lake, flying away from the disquieting sound. They waited until it died away before settling back down on the other side of the water.

Back in the clearing, Danny's body slumped against the tree Hunter had pinned him against. His eyes were closed, chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath after unleashing his ghostly wail. His heart was pounding and his head felt like someone was driving a nail right between his eyes.

That was to be expected, though. He did just manage to pull off using his most powerful attack twice in one night, which was a miracle in itself even without all the extra shit he had been put through today.

After ten long moments, Danny managed to open his eyes, scanning the field for any trace of his adversary. His eyes fell to the tangled mess of black trench coat and limbs lying about a hundred feet away from the epicenter of Danny's scream.

Danny pulled himself to his feet, using the tree for support. He looking down and vaguely recognized his blue jeans and red-white running shoes. He must've spent all of his ghostly power and forcibly reverted back into his human form.

Danny disliked being suddenly striped of his powers, but on the plus side he was no longer covered in sweat and blood, and the cut on his chest seemed to have already begun healing. He tested one foot, then the other, making sure he could still support his weight on his own.

Once Danny had mastered the art of standing, he tried a few steps. A powerful pain shot through his leg as he took the first step. He breathed in sharply and shifted his weight back onto the other foot quickly. The discomfort was definitely coming from his ankle. Danny didn't know how to tell whether it was broken or just twisted, but for the sake of his own morale he decided it was just a pulled muscle.

Danny cast a baleful glance at Hunter. He was pretty sure the human was still alive. No doubt the amulet had absorbed enough ectoplasmic power to save his internal organs from rupturing from the shockwave.

Danny wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

For a moment he considered going over and taking the watch that Hunter had told him was his only ticket to freedom. However that involved limping all the way over to the defeated human then fiddling around to find the damn thing. Besides, given his experiences with Hunter tonight, it was likely the watch wasn't able to deactivate the shield at all, or was coded to Hunter's fingerprints or something like that.

Danny turned his back on the older man, crossing an arm over his wounded chest and taking the first of many painful steps away from the battlefield. He passed through the ghost shield harmlessly, the energy making his human skin simply tingle instead of shocking him painfully.

Despite the situation, Danny couldn't help a small smile when he imaged how flummoxed Hunter would be when he woke up. There were some advantages to being a hybrid in a world where they didn't seem to exist. No one had any clue about the type of powers he possessed and that fact alone had saved his ass twice tonight.

In retrospect, keeping his secret may have not been worth the injuries, but going human and running for his life had seemed just too cowardly for Danny's pride to stomach. Besides, Hunter had challenged him and Danny Phantom never backed down, even when his opponent wouldn't play fair.

He had also learned valuable information about Hunter…well maybe more upsetting and disgusting than valuable. Between the psychotic killer Vlad, Skulker's stories of Pariah Dark and the Ghost Vs. Human wars and now a twisted older version of himself…Danny was starting to get the feeling that this universe was a whole lot worse off than the one he belonged to.

As if to illustrate his thoughts, the world suddenly grew dark as he ventured into the forest, the canopy blocking out almost all the moonlight. The raven-haired teen slowed even more than he already had, being careful not to trip over any rocks or exposed tree roots. At this point it would be just his luck to trip and twist the other ankle.

Danny attempted a change, but the glowing sliver ring didn't even get halfway formed before it fizzled away. He had drained his ghost powers to the last drop after throwing every bit of it into that last attack. It had probably been overkill, but logic hadn't had any say in the matter when he was perched on the edge of adrenaline and hatred.

It had almost been like throwing up. He expelled all his bile, abhorrence and built up stress in one destructive blow, leaving him with nothing but a complete and utter sense of exhaustion. Danny couldn't remember feeling this drained since the conclusion of his battle with Pariah Dark. The only thing keeping him on his feet was his need to be as far away from that damn clearing as possible.

In the end he managed to stay on his feet for another hour, getting thoroughly lost in the woods as he walked. Danny didn't mind though, the more lost he was the harder it would be for Hunter to find him if the older man woke up before he regained his power. Danny didn't want to think about what would happen if he was found in his vulnerable state, not to mention whether Hunter would recognize him or how he would react.

Honestly, he didn't care to even think about it.

The final straw came when Danny broke from the forest and found the edge of a large lake, surrounded on all sides by thick tree cover. He gazed up at the full moon, and suddenly he didn't have anything in him anymore. He lowered himself to the grass and reclined on the slight slope leading towards that lake.

He crossed his arms over his chest, more for comfort than to ward against the cold. It seemed he had gotten lucky and arrived near the middle of this universe's summer. You know, now that he thought about it, the time of year made Hunter's all black attire seem a little silly.

Shrugging it off, Danny noticed that stars overhead looked exactly like the ones back on his earth. He felt the urge to pick out his favorite constellations, but simply lying on the ground was enough for his body to decide to force his mind into sleep.

Blue eyes shut and with a soft sigh the teen allowed himself to rest.

A/N

la gasp! Danny knows Danny is Danny but Danny doesn't know Danny is Danny!

what will happen next? stay tuned to find out!

Ps. since chapters are coming weekly I don't have time to respond to everyone's comments, so apologies to those I didn't get back to.


	4. A Temporary Truce

**Chapter 4: A Temporary Truce**

Danny Fenton, codename "Hunter," leaned against the handle bars of his bike, his body slumped backwards on the leather seat as he relaxed in the afternoon sunshine. His trench coat hung from one of the handlebars, discarded in the wake of warm weather. The screen belonging to the satellite ghost tracker in the dashboard flashed, the words 'unable to locate target' written in block green letters across the map of the United States.

Hunter wasn't watching the screen though. He preferred to work things out himself, with good old pen and paper—or in this case, a map and a sharpie.

The map was held open to display the same area of the US as the screen, but this version had a series of pen marks, mostly scattered around the major highways and leading north from Wisconsin to Minnesota. There were thirty in total. The black marks were for the locations where a white haired ghost boy in a black jumpsuit had been spotted. The red ones were for encounters Hunter had had with Phantom himself.

Out of the thirty, twelve were red.

Twelve times their paths had crossed and twelve times the teenager had slipped through his fingers. It was unlike anything Hunter had experienced before. Ghosts were many things, but subtle was not one of them. Yet every time he managed to corner Phantom, the ghost would phase through a wall or fly around a corner and then vanish without a trace.

Despite his title, Hunter wasn't much of a hunter. It was not a skill he had ever needed to practice. His first encounter with a ghost would almost always be the last and if not he would at least get a lock on the unique ecto signature, allowing him to pinpoint a ghost's location with perfect accuracy.

Sure there were still ghosts out there who he knew of that had not been captured, but none that he was actively pursuing. The longest any ghost had survived after Hunter turned his full attention to it had been a measly thirty six hours, but at this moment the green-eyed teen was pushing a full week.

Hunter was inclined to blame the tracking system for his continued failure to detain Phantom. Ever since he had woken up after his fist battle with the ghost boy it had been on the frits. For long periods of time it would insist that Phantom's ecto-signature was nowhere to be found then, seemingly at random, it would beep wildly and lock in on its target.

If Hunter took to the road quickly after the alert, he would find Phantom, often flying at full speed along the side of the highway.

The events after that moment had played out so often that it almost felt like routine now. Hunter would attack and Phantom would retaliate, both unable to use full power while also maintaining chase speed. And while Hunter's ability to aim while steering improved greatly as a result, nothing else ever came of these little encounters.

Eventually the two of them would reach a populated area, a rest stop or a small town or maybe even a proper city, forcing Hunter to holster his weapon in order to avoid any casualties getting caught in the crossfire.

The ghost boy would then take this moment to make his escape. Through invisibility, intangibility or pure ghostly speed, Phantom would break Hunter's line of sight and utterly vanish in the blink of an eye. Right after that the tracking system would lose the signal again. Further scans would show a trail of residual ecto-energy, but no signs of life besides the bustling of fellow humans going about their day.

Hunter found this phenomenon to be both utterly fascinating and completely infuriating. The only explanation he could come up with was that Phantom had found a way to hide his ghostly energy.

It seemed the most likely explanation, but he had never seen any spirit capable of completely hiding itself. Even those that overshadowed humans couldn't keep every bit of their energy contained within living flesh. Humans and ghosts were just too biologically incompatible.

Hunter traced his finger along the rough line of marks that indicated the path Phantom was taking. His thoughts buzzing as he asked himself one of many questions that had begun to plague him over this past week, "Where are you going?"

The deserted parking lot outside Flanagan's roadside diner didn't seem to have an answer for him, but voicing the question out loud did a little to clear his mind.

Hunter folded the map and tucked into a small pocket in the back cover of a black notebook, pinning it with a paper clip so it wouldn't fall out before he started flipping through the pages. About half the book was filled already, its pages covered with rough sketches and detailed, well-organized notes.

Almost every notable ghost he had faced had its place somewhere in the book. He recorded their names, details about their powers and what attacks they favored, how well they seemed to mimic human emotions, what personality traits were expressed, and, most importantly, details on each ghost's unique obsession and guesses about who they were in their past life on earth.

Hunter had started making the book soon after his first successful hunt. After returning to Vlad with his catch, Vlad had shooed the then 17 year old boy up to his bedroom so he could begin the process of freeing the spirit from its obsession and allowing what remained of the soul to find peace.

It sounded nice, the theory, but Uncle Vladdy had assured his young charge that the process he needed to use was anything but. That's why the youngest Fenton had never been allowed into the lab to see it, even after his eighteenth birthday. Vlad seemed adamant that observing might negatively affect Hunter's confidence in battle, and Hunter had to agree. He knew that if his guilt caused him to hesitate in the heat of battle, even for a moment, it might cost innocent lives.

However, Hunter did know enough about the process to realize that after he handed a full thermos over to Vlad, the ghost inside would never be seen again.

It was soon after that Danny had found himself in an office supply shop, his second full thermos slung over his shoulder. He had picked out an ordinary, leather-bound journal and written the first page under the bright light of the moon, adding a quick drawing from memory before he began the long trek back home.

Two years later, the book functioned as research notes, memorials for those he had hunted, a journal and strategy guide. The information held within would be invaluable to any researcher of ghosts, but to Hunter it was even more than that. He wouldn't have called it his prized possession, but it certainly was one of the only things on the planet he would never part with.

Hunter eventually found the page he was looking for. He ran a finger over his own neat handwriting, smiling a little to himself as he reflected that if he had kept notes like this in school he probably wouldn't have had a C average.

A pencil sketch gazed up at him from the opposite page, and even though the drawing was in black and white, Hunter could see those wide defiant green eyes gazing back at him. Daring. Mocking. Self-assured. Reminding Hunter that out of all the ghosts in the journal, he was the only one who still had his freedom.

Out of a combination of boredom and frustration, Hunter began to reread his notes. Vague hope that perhaps some of the pieces would fall into place if he kept thinking. It was preferable to sitting there like a duck, waiting for Phantom to show himself again.

He flipped to the first page and began reading from the beginning…

_High-Profile Target #37: The Ghost Boy (AKA Phantom)_

_Target 37 was first encountered thirty miles out from__Madison Wisconsin, where he had been seeking refuge amongst other ghosts. Initially, I assumed he must have made an alliance with them, but later events showed their loyalty to him was negligible. _

_After successful detainment, I decided that in the interest of further study it was worth having a rematch with him in a controlled environment. Initial progress seemed successful, but through a lapse of judgment he escaped. As of June 15th he is still at large. _

Hunter flipped to the next page. The general overview notes were the least interesting part of his make-shift case files. They were good for getting a quick overview, though, and were also vague enough to allow him to hand them over to the Feds if they wished for a written report on his activities when reviewing his Ghost Hunter's License.

_Subject Name: Unknown, later referred to himself as Phantom. However, I'm hard pressed to believe this is anything more than a__pseudonym. The capital letter D on his chest and his nervousness when relating his name would indicate that he is either lying or unable to remember his name from a past life. _

_Physical appearance: Remarkably humanlike, to levels that I have not encountered before. He appears to be a male, aged about 16 to 17 years, although I would lean towards the younger side of the scale. _

_Unlike many ghosts, he still retains human pupils and irises, electric green in color and with a tendency to produce their own ghostly light. Similarly, his hair (an uncanny silvery white in color) is made of individual strands that look soft and bouncy. If I am given the opportunity, a brief stroke of those locks could provide valuable information about how ghost's form their bodies. _

Hunter winced. He usually attempted to keep his notes professional, but sometimes his analysis gave way to his inner musings, especially when he was dealing with ghosts that drew special interest.

Still, at least in the text it sounded like he was just curious about body structure, and while it was true that it would be interesting to find out…Hunter had a feeling that if, no, when he managed to recapture Phantom, his thoughts would be far from scientific study when he ran his fingers through the boy's silky white hair.

_Clothing and personal accessories consist only of a skintight black suit covering everything from the neck downwards. While the aesthetics of the outfit are a little questionable, there is no doubt that it's functional. He uses this to his advantage; given the abnormal flexibility of ghosts, the suit allows him to have complete freedom of movement. _

_However, the suit also seems to have a tendency to rip under harsh conditions, to the point where one could easily measure the ferocity of a battle by how intact it is. Interestingly enough, it even rips in a manner similar to real clothing, despite the fact it is clearly made of ecto-energy (as evidenced by the fact it heals along with cuts and bruises). Ghosts normally don't have the will or the power to give their clothes the properties of real world material. _

Hunter could still vividly remember the sound as his knife tore through the material covering Phantom's chest, the sound alone doubling the intensity of the moment. At the time the move had been needed to force Phantom off after the ghost had come dangerously close to snatching his protective amulet, but then not a day later, the suit and his skin were smooth and untarnished.

Since Hunter severely doubted that Phantom had time to stop by a tailor to get it fixed, this development might prove his theory that ghost clothing was an extension of themselves that healed in a similar manner to skin.

Most ghost hunters assumed that it was simply fabric from another world, but if he could get a sample to analyze, he might just prove them wrong.

_Powers and abilities: Considerable fighter in both hand-to-hand and long-range combat. Has a full complement of ghostly powers including a large number of special abilities. Phantom has mastered Duplication, __Spectral Body Manipulation, and Cryokinesis (ice manipulation). __I also suspect that he may be able to transform, changing his appearance at will. It would account for his uncanny ability to elude detection. _

_Phantom also seems to have complete control over his own power supplies, twisting ecto-energy to his will and using it in ways I have never seen before. Over my week of observation, I have seen it used from manipulating objects to forming solid ropes and bounds (which are surprisingly difficult to escape from). _

_Last but not least, he had one special power. I have been unable to identify it since its use resulted in almost instantaneous_ _unconsciousness. From what I can tell it must be a power blast of some sort, but one not leaving any trace besides flattened grass and bent trees. I am not certain a civilian could survive it, leaving a very real possibility that Phantom could commit mass murder at will. _

_Luckily he seems only able to use it under extreme stress, much like a trapped animal making a desperate bid for freedom. In light of this fact I've decided that cornering be avoided before capture. The faster you can contain Phantom, the less chance he will have to be able to unleash this power. _

Hunter nodded to himself, suddenly aware of the dark purple bruises that he had gotten either form the fight or from the blast. It was at times like these that he envied the healing abilities ghosts seemed to possess.

The paragraph did more than just remind Hunter of his injuries though. It also painted a clear picture of the kind of ghost he was up against. To put it bluntly, he was certain that if Phantom wished, the ghost could level a whole city on his own before he could be stopped.

The mere thought made Hunter sick, especially knowing that his failure had directly led to Phantom's continued freedom. Any damage the ghost managed to do would be on his shoulders. All it would take was one mood change, and then when the dust settled there would be nothing to do but bury the dead and try to console the survivors.

Whenever he thought about it like that, Hunter felt an old familiar rage building inside of him, a fiery unrestricting hatred that had been burned into his soul at the tender age of fourteen.

But Hunter was not a vengeful teen anymore. He was a grown man and one who had learned from experience to control his emotions and think logically. In this case, all Hunter had to do was remember that although Phantom was capable of such violence, he had never once seen an instance where he used his powers for that end unless he was provoked, usually by Hunter himself.

Of all the bizarre observations he had made on Phantom, that was by far the strangest thing about the ghost teen. Running, hiding, avoiding conflict, these were seen as acts of cowardice in ghost culture and for a ghost of Phantom's power level it was completely unheard of. Even when he lost Phantom in those populated areas, the news report the next day never had anything about a rise in crime or any other paranormal disturbances.

History clearly showed that unchecked high-level ecto-manifestations left trails of destruction in their wake, but Phantom passed with barely a whisper. The only exclamation Hunter could use to justify this behaviour was that the ghost must have some form of reverence for human life.

It was hard to even admit that thought to himself, though, as it went against everything modern science believed about ghosts. Ghosts do to not feel empathy, they don't see reason, and if they can destroy something they will. The powerful dominate the weak, and that's what the humans were to them; weak creatures to be used or removed, depending on the ghosts in question.

Hunter had only managed to gain what respect he had from a long reign of terror and through many acts of what the ghosts must have perceived as murder… but that was the way it worked, the only thing that could stop a ghost from wreaking havoc was fear.

That's why he was a ghost hunter, that was why there were ghost hunters. A force of mildly organized tough guys meant to instill fear. Though crude it had managed to uphold a shaky peace between humans and ghosts since the first ghost vs. human conflict, respectfully named 'The Battle of Amity Park'.

Hunter's eyes closed tightly. He hated all this deep thinking, it was much easier for him to just hate ghosts than it was to understand, but the natural inquisitiveness passed on from of his two scientist parents refused to let him remain ignorant.

If ghosts could be reasoned with and some form of truce could be worked out…it might put an end to the random attacks and the veil of fear that humanity had been living under since they realized they were not the most powerful beings anymore.

'_No,'_ Hunter reminded himself firmly_, 'ghost are not like that, you've seen it…You've lived it…They don't feel empathy. Phantom is simply an anomaly, a glitch in the order. He's probably the only one of his kind…"_ Then a new thought surfaced, _'And I'm going to find out why.'_ Hunter took a deep breath, suddenly realizing he had forgotten he was even holding his notebook, his fingers clutching the book a little too tightly.

Hunter loosened his grip gingerly, leaning back against his bike again. This waiting around was really starting to get to him.

He turned his attention back to the pages, only to remember that the last section of Phantom's case file was a complete mess. The space was meant for his personal notes on a ghost but instead it was filled only with erased pencil marks, crossed out sentences and half-legible scribbles.

Hunter shut the book with a snap, sat up on his bike and tucked it away again—only to pull it out a second later, flipping to the very back of the book.

Those pages held a few more sketches, but Hunter's eye was only drawn to the one sitting in the middle of the page. It was of Phantom, pressed up against the bark of the tree Hunter had pinned him against, the top half if his suit torn open like it had been…but there the similarities to real life faded and fantasy took over.

Phantom was on his knees, his green eyes defiant but his quivering lips betraying the fear he was feeling. A hand from somewhere outside the area of the drawing was laced into his short hair, forcing him to keep his eyes up. In response Phantom had grabbed the front of the coat belonging to a man that was only hinted at in the drawing itself.

Underneath it was an even more incriminating sketch, Phantom lying on his back, spread out over a collection of soft-looking pillows, his suit not torn but unzipped in a manner that showed off that same stretch of lightly muscled chest. A dark blush was spread across both his cheeks, but it didn't seem he was quite embarrassed enough to change his lascivious posture. The drawing captured him in the middle of a beckoning motion, tempting the viewer to come join him.

Those were just the most detailed of the sketches however. Smaller scribbles of Phantom littered the next few pages. Running jumping, kicking, charging an ecto-blast and flying… there was even one of him resting peacefully with his eyes closed, captured from a memory of finding the ghost lying in the grass as he took a break from his little cross-country trip.

Hunter closed the notebook, suddenly feeling like he needed some fresh air. He packed it away again, throwing his coat over his shoulders and flipping the ignition on his bike. It roared into life under him and in less than a minute he had pulled back onto the highway, picking his direction at random before joining the rush of traffic.

Wind whipped through Hunter's short black locks, the fast motion of the bike and the role of the pavement as it disappeared behind him was inherently relaxing and it did a lot to calm his frayed nerves. After about five miles he finally allowed himself to drift back into his thoughts.

'_All right, Fenton, time to face facts…You're completely head over heels for that damn ghost kid…'_

Admitting it to himself was more of a relief than anything, but just like admitting you have a problem, that was only the first step to solving it.

He was conflicted, but not for the reason most would think, because lucky for Hunter he was long passed the confusion about being attracted to members of the undead. In fact if you managed to get your hands on his little notebook (unlikely given he would rather kill you than part with it) you would find similar pictures to those of Phantom but featuring any number of other ghosts, a small portion of which Hunter had the pleasure of getting to know very intimately…for a short time anyway…

While Hunter's taste in lovers was a taboo to be sure, it was also not an uncommon occurrence among his fellow ghost hunters. After all, they were the only ones able to gain the respect needed to be considered anything more than prey.

Of course these interspecies liaisons could never last...but the rush for just that one night made it worth it. Hunter had even worked out a system for himself detailing how to approach ghosts that caught his eye…the problem now was that Phantom was failing his criteria.

Phantom's power made him both irresistible and a risk that Hunter could not afford to take, because the bargaining chip the blue-eyed male used in order to entice a sprit into taking his offer of intimacy, was their freedom. (Or as Ember has so crudely put it, "If I fuck you, you'll let me go?")

Sadly, freedom was something that Phantom, however placid he may seem, could never have. You don't put a nuclear bomb next to a playground even if you're sure it's disarmed, and the same could be said for the ghost kid.

Of course even with strong sentiments like that Hunter still had doubts, and throwing a ton of perverse sexual lust into his already mixed feelings just made everything worse.

Beep.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

Ecto-signature location success, calculating fastest route.

Hunter snapped to attention, his heart rate quickening as the realization that the hunt was on again. He took his eyes off the road for a bare second to check the screen, a traffic violation yes, but at nineteen he was still too young and reckless to care.

Phantom was a hundred miles away tops, which was not outside the norm. He never seemed to get far while remaining undetected. With a pleased grin, Hunter also noted he was already going in the right direction.

"Keep straight for 40 miles," the GPS chirped, a little redundantly. Hunter muted the thing and leaned forward on his bike, speeding up considerably. Today might be a good day to see if he could top his high score for miles per hour on a freeway…

But just as Hunter was about to slam down the gas a second alarm went off on his dash. It had its own special tone so that Hunter would recognise it, and over the years he had begun to hate that sound.

It was the universal ghost distress signal, every town or city in the states had one. Since they didn't have enough anti-ghost military forces to station in every city, they set up a system that would call any nearby ghost hunters as well as military backup at a push of a button.

With a growing sense of dread, Hunter checked the GPS display, only to find his fears confirmed. Phantom's location and the source of the single were overlapping. The town would have only triggered the alarm if they were under serious attack, so this could only mean one thing. Phantom had finely snapped.

Hunter gripped the handlebars of his bike tightly, trying to suppress the urge to punch the screen. He felt betrayed, but that didn't make any sense since he hadn't trusted Phantom to begin with.

Hunter took a deep breath, resolving that he could work out his issues once he stopped Phantom…because right now, every life the ghost took was on his shoulders.

Make no mistake, though, when he got there Phantom would pay tenfold for every ounce of blood he spilled…

* * *

Danny needed to act fast before this monster managed to kill anyone.

This town was well-equipped to deal with ghosts, much like all the others he had found in this world, but sadly, their defences were only limited to dispelling smaller ghosts.

In theory that made sense, since this city wasn't populated enough to warrant a serious attack. Of course that was assuming ghosts cared what they attacked. To be fair, many did have the power of reasoning to accomplish this, but others only had enough brain power to step on anything they didn't like, and at the moment, the thirty-foot-tall brute lumbering his way down Main Street seemed to be a member of the latter category.

Danny flew hot on the monster's heels, blasting away at the vaguely human-shaped blob of green ectoplasm. It barley seemed to register his shots though, shrugging them off like they were taps on the shoulder.

The creature reached down and grabbed a mailbox, crushing it between its large fingers and leaving nothing but a crumpled husk. Danny swallowed, not wanting to think about what that would look like if it grabbed some poor human.

He upped his power on the shots, concentrating a blast in both hands before he hurled it at the center of the ghost's back.

This time the galoot howled in rage and lashed out behind it. Danny swerved, avoiding the stubby arm that tried to swat him out the air like a pesky fly. Two large red eyes focused on the little ghost boy. Danny quickly began to charge another blast, but the other ghost was faster. Danny gasped and dropped his concentration as a fully loaded minivan came within five inches of his unkempt white hair. He stumbled back in the air, watching in shock as the car crashed to the ground, giving the galoot behind him just enough time to throw a follow up.

Lucky for Danny the only other car within reaching distance was a compact. Still hurt like hell though.

'_Damn it…I know I've said it before, but I really, really, need to start playing more attention…'_

With a groan of effort, Danny heaved the chunk of twisted steel and hubcaps off, ignoring the perfectly shaped Danny-sized hole in the concrete as he launched back into the air.

It seemed that the bigger ghost had already forgotten about him though. It was probably used to things going away after it threw cars at them. Danny followed it to the street corner where it was standing next to an apartment building, its own height making it about on eye level with the third floor.

It lifted its fist and slammed it into the concrete. Danny rushed forward, afraid he was going to take the whole building down, but the crumbling wall only opened into a single frilly pink bedroom, a rain of concrete and stuffed toys hitting the streets as the hand pulled back.

A high-pitched scream filled the air and then Danny saw her, a little girl likely no more than five or six clutched in the grubby fingers of the gigantic ghost. It was oddly reminiscent of a Japanese monster flick, but Danny wasn't exactly in a state of mind to enjoy the coincidence.

The ecto-blast Danny had been charging died again. He needed to get the little one away from the ghost. He couldn't risk going all out on it and hurting her. He needed to come up with a new strategy, and fast.

"Hey, Puke-Zilla!" Danny yelled, flying forward and circling around so he was about a foot from the ghost's gigantic face. "Think fast!" Danny drew back and punched it in its bulbous red eye.

The creature stumbled back and Danny went for his hand, wrapping his arms around the girl's torso and trying to turn her intangible. The power spread from Danny to her and she was just coming loose—

SMACK

The back of the other hand hit Danny and he was sent flying backwards through the air, tumbling head over heels until he came skidding to a halt on the pavement, his head smacking against a tire of a black sports bike.

Black sports bike…

"Oh you have got to be FUCKING kidding me!"

A second later and the barrel of a gun shoved against Danny's face, Hunter's bright blue eyes staring upside down at him from his seat on the bike. The sole of his boot came down on Danny's chest and he reflexively grabbed the ankle, pushing against him. Danny saw Hunter's finger tighten around the trigger, and his green eyes snapped shut.

"Are you trying to save that girl?"

Danny flinched, but when he realized he was still okay, he reopened one eye. Hunter was looking up at the gigantic ghost not a hundred feet down the street. It had started shaking the little girl in his grasp like a baby would with a toy.

Danny noticed the tone of urgency in Hunter's voice and he quickly snapped out of it. "Trying is kinda the keyword there, but yes, I am."

Hunter sighed audibly, and if the ghost boy didn't know better he would have thought he looked disappointed. The boot on Danny's chest lifted and suddenly the ghost hunter was all business.

"Take this," he said and took a small hand-grenade-shaped object from some kind of hidden compartment on his bike, pushing it into Danny's gloved hands. "There's a five second delay once you pull the pin. After that it emits a pulse of anti-ectoplasm that will cripple a ghost but leave humans unharmed."

In his head, Danny added that the weapon could cripple him as well. Handling the weapon with the upmost care he got to his feet, his eyes still focused on Hunter, more than a little confused by this strange turn of events.

"I'll run interference while you get a good shot. Throw it at him, get out of the way, and make sure you're ready to catch her. I've seen how fast you can fly, you should be able to do it."

Danny blinked. Was that a compliment?

Hunter kick-started his bike again and began tearing down the street at a breakneck pace. Danny followed suit, taking to the air and catching up within a matter of seconds, still a little confused to why he wasn't locked inside a Fenton Thermos.

Then it dawned on him, Hunter must believe that personal vendettas came last when lives were on the line. It was a principal that he had exercised many times himself and it had landed Danny with many unexpected battle-mates.

Maybe they were more alike than the ghost boy had assumed, even if Hunter was still a complete jerk and more than a little creepy. Especially when he had that dark look in his eyes that never failed to make Danny feel uncomfortable. Still, jerk or not, he wasn't going to say no to a little help. Not that he couldn't have handled it on his own, this just made it easier.

The sound of tires screeching across the pavement echoed across the empty street, the ear-splitting sound grabbing the attention of the green blob monster. Red eyes fixated on the little human and the ghost stretched out its other hand to grab Hunter.

Hunter pulled out his gun again and shot the thing in the middle of its hand without even blinking an eye. A loud bang and a rain of mushy ecto-goop showered the street, totally ruining the fount porch of a flower shop.

The monster howled in pain and pulled back its arm which now ended in a flat stump. It paused for a moment summoning up more of his goopy form to replace the appendage. With a thunderous growl of rage it flexed its fingers and this time made to crush the insolent human, but Hunter pulled up his feet and hit the gas. He and his bike were long gone by the time the fist impacted the ground, leaving a large crater.

"Please, I've seen snails move faster than that!" Hunter called from his new position behind the creature. He leaned on the handle bars and faked a yawn. "You gonna move this along or should I just take a nap?"

It was at this point that Danny finally caught up to the ghost hunter. He would have been there faster but he needed the slow pace so he would not be noticed by the monster.

The creature rounded on Hunter, lumbering towards him with footfalls that shook the whole street. Danny twisted in the air and appeared behind its shoulder. Hunter looked up at him, nodded, and Danny pulled the pin on the little weapon he had been given. Hoping to hell that Hunter hadn't been lying about what it did, he sunk it into the monster's shoulder with a ghastly squelching sound and turned tail, promptly getting the fuck out of there.

Exactly five seconds later a flash of blue energy enveloped the beast, a perfectly shaped sphere of impact zone that came within inches of Danny's boots.

A sound like a freight train impacting a cow filled the air as the monster screamed in pain. Danny decided he didn't want to ever know what it felt like to be on the receiving end of this particular weapon.

The flash was gone as soon as it appeared and a second scream, this time from the little girl, reached Danny's ears.

In its convulsions, the monster had thrown the girl and she was currently hurtling through the air in a manner that was completely and utterly unsafe for a girl her age…or for anyone who couldn't fly for that matter.

Danny shot forward at top speed, his hero instincts kicking in with a vengeance. Eyes narrowed along with his focus, he threw everything he had into his velocity .

He reached her with plenty of time to spare, his arms wrapping around her middle, practically plucking her out of the air. He kept the momentum going just long enough to slow the two of them to a gentle stop.

They hung in the air for a moment, before the little one finally opened her eyes. She twisted in his arms and Danny gave her his best reassuring smile. She took one look at him, noticed his ghostly aura, the floating, and screamed again in his ear.

"Get away from me, ghost, get away, get away, get away!" she hollered, kicking and lashing out with her tiny fists. It was all Danny could do not drop her. He tightened his grip and gritted his teeth, looking for a safe place to put her.

Her screaming was drowned out a second later as the monster that she had just been saved from howled and turned to face the floating pair. Danny's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates when he saw that half the creature's face had melted. Given that it was a slime monster anyway the effect wasn't too gruesome, but it still looked unsettling enough to put the girl's cries to a sudden and abrupt end.

Out of the corner of his eye, Danny saw Hunter taking aim at the staggered glop monster. He knew what he had to do.

He rushed the human and dropped the girl right in Hunter's lap. The gun he had been holding crashed to the pavement with a clang and Hunter glanced down. As soon as the girl saw that he was human, she grabbed him tightly, clinging to the front of his trench coat.

"Watch her," Danny ordered, staring at Hunter with his best serious face.

The blue-eyed male looked from the girl to the ghost, raising an eyebrow, "Do I look like a babysitter?"

Danny huffed and crossed his arms. "No, but she's scared of me, and I can't protect her if I have to worry about getting kicked in the face!"

The earth suddenly jumped under both male's feet, reminding them of the deadly monster just a hundred feet away.

"I'll fight him off, just keep her safe okay?" Danny insisted, taking to the air but still keeping close. He needed to hear Hunter give his word.

Hunter sighed deeply and nodded, and like a bolt of lightning Danny was gone. Hunter crossed an arm around the girl's back, kicking his bike back into life. For the first time in his ghost hunting career, he retreated to a safe distance and allowed someone else to do the work for him.

With some debating, he settled on a position just inside a nearby alleyway, sheltered from any large objects that could be thrown. One arm stayed around the girl's back, protecting the back of her head, while the other found the gun holster stored under his front tire and retrieved his backup pistol.

Feeling a lot less vulnerable now that he was armed again, Hunter turned his attention to the battle raging in the four way intersection, his eyes doing their best to follow the ghost boy as he flipped, jumped and blasted with a skill that would have made an Olympic acrobat green with envy.

It seemed Phantom had figured out that he had the advantage of speed and agility over the lumbering powerhouse and was chasing himself around the monster in circles. He never stayed long enough to give the creature time to even think about counterattacking before he was in a new position, firing wave after wave of ecto-beams into his opponent.

Hunter's grip tensed around his gun, caught between wanting to fight by the ghost's side and his unwillingness to abandon the little one clinging to him.

While he had no doubts the ghost boy could take down the green slime beast, the principal of leaving the fate of a city to a ghost wasn't sitting well with Hunter. He was used to them being the enemy, used to the hate and the fear. Every last bit of his instincts were yelling at him to attack them both before they had a chance to team up and turn on him.

Yet here he was, ignoring his instincts and hiding in a hole like a scared mouse.

How had one little phantom changed him so much?

Back in the heat of battle, Danny dogged another flying stop sign and was coming back around for another attack. Green light shot from his open palms in a continuous blast of d energy, burning away the protective layers of slime bit by bit. Slowly but surely, in much the same way a bear could be stung to death by bees, he was overpowering the much larger ghost.

The beast had shrunk to half its original size, and the crater of destruction around it had diminished accordingly. Danny charged his next blast with both hands, aiming for the chest. Another sick splat and he had to turn intangible to avoid being coated in the sticky mess that splattered a row of buildings. He did not envy whoever had to clean this up.

It was almost time to put the lid on this baddie. It should be weak enough for capture now, all he needed to do was uncap his thermos and… oh crap…

Hunters eyes widened, the realization that he hadn't given Phantom any means of capturing the slime ghost hitting him over the back of the head. He looked down at the girl in his lap, who had stopped burying her face in his chest and had been watching the fight with interest for a while now.

He backed up a little on the backseat and swung his legs over, getting to his feet. As soon as she noticed he was leaving she cried out and grasped his coat again. Hunter winced and pried her off, knelt down to her level and looked into her scared eyes, summing up his best attempt at a "fatherly voice."

"Listen, I need to go help put that big bad ghost away, you'll be safe here I promise."

She nodded a little and the grip on his coat loosened a bit. Hunter pulled away slowly, keeping a close eye on her as he pulled a thermos from one of his bags. The cylinder was firm and metallic and just felt right in his hands.

With one last look back to make sure the little one stayed put, Hunter took off around the building. Black boots pounded on the pavement and drew the ghostly eyes of the monster and Phantom, a wild grin erupting on the latter's face as he spotted the thermos in his hand.

Hunter lifted his gun and fired a few shots, buying the time it would take him to get into throwing distance. The pistol blasts that wouldn't have even bothered the monster in his full form were now enough to have it reeling back in pain.

Hunter's eyes met Danny's and he swung his arm down and up, throwing an underhanded pass to the ghost who dropped down in the air to catch it.

"Uncap the lid, point and press the button to shoot!" Hunter yelled over the sound of his discharging weapon and the howls of pain from his wounded target, clutching the butt of his weapon in both hands now.

"I know!" Danny called back before his brain could kick in and remind him that he really shouldn't know.

Hunter shot him a look and he cringed a little on the inside. Luckily his ass was saved a second later when Hunter's distraction resulted in him not seeing a large glob of excess slime flying towards him until it whacked him over the head, knocking him to the pavement in a pile of sticky green guck.

Taking back to the air quickly, Danny uncapped the thermos, a small part of his brain noting how this one felt heavier than the kind he used to. Hunter must have added something to his. He would have had to, seeing as the ones in his timeline only worked after he introduced his own ghost energy as a power source and got it to work for the first time.

The cap came off in his hand and a swirling tornado of white energy erupted form Danny's hands. With a sickly sound it began to suck up the glowing goo shell around the monster, syphoning it away like water down a drain.

Danny spotted Hunter attempting to free himself from the blob of goo that was clinging to the fabric of his coat. With a slight grin, Danny turned the thermos on him for a moment, waiting until all the slime was sucked up before capping the thing and sealing the goo monster inside.

Blue eyes glared at him and Danny had to stifle a giggle. Apparently using a Fenton Thermos on a perfectly normal human had the side effect of making their hair stand completely on end. Hunter attempted to straighten it out, but when a few pats with his hands didn't help he decided to give up.

Danny grinned and tossed the human the thermos, returning to the ground with a light tap as his boots hit the blissfully still pavement.

"Hey, at least you're clean now. Ectoplasm can stain even black clothes you know. You wouldn't believe how many times I've needed to get my suit—"

A loud clang interrupted Danny's little rant, not that Hunter had been listening to the ghost boy's ramblings anyway. The bottom half of the Fenton Thermos had collided with the ground after being ejected from the main unit. The ghost that had been inside was now confined to the little slab of metal, leaving the thermos free up for a second capture. Useful when dealing with multiple powerful targets without giving them the chance to team up from inside and break the capture unit.

The design had won him an award for ghost hunting innovation at last year's national Ghost Hunter's conference. Not that Phantom would ever know any of that though. He had approximately three seconds of freedom left.

Shoulders squared, wordless and purposeful, Hunter pointed the thermos at the ghost boy. Knowing he had him this time, knowing he could have him. Green glowing eyes widened in a look of shock, maybe betrayal. Likely he thought they were friends now that they had fought together, or at least assumed Hunter trusted him in some way. That was just like Phantom, innocent, trusting…

A flash of doubt in his mind and his finger hovered over the button, one second of hesitation.

But sometimes that's the difference between a successful hunt and miserable failure.

A high pithed scream filled the air, barley registered in Hunter's mind before a four foot tall demon landed on his back. "No! Don't don't don't don't! He's a nice ghost! He saved us!"

Hunter gasped and dropped the thermos. He wrenched the thing off his back with both hands, her little fingers slipping from where they had dug into the back of his coat.

She landed with a bump, and glared up at Hunter. He turned to the place Phantom had been seconds ago, but he was already gone. His eyes caught a black flicker as Phantom turned the corner.

For a moment he felt the urge to grab his bike and give chase, but he knew the effort would be useless, just another wild goose chase before Phantom vanished into thin air.

Fuck…

The little bitch was smiling at him smugly. If only she knew what kind of creature she had just let loose, just because she thought he was a "Good ghost."

"Come on, let's see if we can't find your parents," he grumbled, walking back to the ally to retrieve his sports bike.

**A/N**

Sorry for the lateness dears the chapters are getting harder to edit as it goes along, seems like my "write before you post" plan backfired a little. The next chapter may take a little longer, what with the holidays looming overhead.


	5. Your Doom Draws Ever Near

**Chapter 5: Your Doom Draws Ever Near**

**Interstate 142**

**Amity Park**

**4 miles**

The sign was twisted, rusty, and coated with dirt, but it was by far one of the most comforting things Danny had read in his life. After two weeks of being on the run, it felt good to know it might all be over soon, even if coming here had only been in the vain hope he could find something to help him get back home.

Before he had been captured by the ectoplasm-sucking-Fruitloop, Danny had known a ghost portal was his only chance. His initial search for one had been what led him to the vampire's lab and onto the dinner menu.

He touched down on the dusty side of the highway, white rings reverting him from ghost to human. He would walk the last leg of the joinery on his own two feet, a small price to pay for keeping Hunter off his tracks.

Danny hadn't seen the ghost hunter since the incident with the slime monster a few cities over, but he knew he wasn't out of the woods just yet. His adversary had a nasty habit of surprising him when he least expected it.

He couldn't even stand to let himself think about the sheer craziness of this alternate universe. The whole world overrun with ghosts, Skulker and his other foes fighting together hoof and nail against ghost hunters for the right to live outside the Ghost Zone, not to mention the fucking vampires.

Danny sighed and wrapped his arms around his middle. He just really missed his bed. As soon he got back to his universe, he would give his mom and dad a huge hug then pass out and hopefully think up a good excuse for why he had been missing for a whole week before he had to move again.

Hell, he was even looking forward to his mom's cooking at this point, and that was saying something.

Danny closed his eyes for a moment, only for his eyelids to snap open a second later when the unwanted image of his Hunter filled his imagination. He shivered. He hated that look, the one the older male had given him right before he turned the thermos on him.

Danny knew what the other didn't, how closely they were related. How those cold blue eyes once belonged to him. There had to be something he didn't know, something that explained what exactly went wrong in alternate Danny's life to turn into that…but it wasn't worth staying in this place long enough to find out.

Maybe when he got into Fenton Works, he might find this universe's version of Jazz. She could tell him…well if she actually bought his story, anyway.

Still, she was still a better option than trying to talk with alternate Jack or Maddie. Who knows what a worldwide ghost hunting culture would have done to those two.

At least their son didn't have to worry about getting stuck in the crossfire like he did. Hell, they were probably pleased as peaches about their jerk-ass ghost hunter son. Even went into business with Jack's old college buddy, how fucking prefect.

"I bet he doesn't even know what the Hubble Space Telescope is," Danny muttered, a random comment that would have confused the heck out of anyone who didn't know him very well. It had its purpose though. If he distanced himself from Hunter it was easier for him to hate the older man. Not that that was hard, considering what he had put him through.

A gust of wind kicked up some dust, and Danny shielded his eyes behind a forearm. He glanced back along the highway, raising a curious eyebrow at the empty road behind him. He hadn't been passed by a single car in hours, not that he was trying to hitchhike. He had learned his lesson about that earlier this week.

Still, this level of traffic was completely unnatural, especially mid-afternoon on a Monday. Normally this road was packed at rush-hour. One time he had been stuck in the back of the Fenton RV for two hours, waiting to get back into the city core after a cross-state trip to visit uncle Vlad.

An eerie feeling of apprehension wrapped itself around Danny like a thick blanket. He sped up a little, eyes staring straight ahead.

That's when he saw the first barricade looming over the horizon, a gray monolith of concrete crossing the whole road, solid enough to completely stop even a large truck if it crashed into it. Confusion flashed across Danny's face, but he forced it back, telling himself it must just be some kind of construction project. He had been flying earlier so he must have missed the road closure notice further up the road.

As he drew near, though, his construction theory seemed less and less comforting. The barricade looked even bigger the closer he got and was definitely not temporary. In fact, judging by the graffiti and the crumbling stone on the left side, it had to have been there for years, maybe even a decade.

Behind the concrete barrier an even more distressing sight loomed. A high fence that looked like it encircled the whole city. Unable to wait until he got close enough to figure out what was going on, Danny transformed, keeping his head down until he reached the wall.

An old looking booth was to his left, some kind of place to house a guard on duty. It must have been backup security to make sure no one crossed the fence. Whoever had been stationed there no longer seemed to have that responsibility though because the booth was empty. Its windows busted.

Danny was more concerned with what was right in front of him, though, on the fence.

Laminated pictures of men, woman, and children. Letters and stories. Real flowers that had shriveled in the sun alongside unnaturally perfect plastic ones. All centered around a large bronze plaque that stretched across the fence for far too long, baring an alphabetical list of names.

Danny's heart slipped and dropped into his stomach, his mouth as dry as the dirt surrounding him, alone on this empty highway. Standing In the same spot as countless loved ones who had visited, pausing for a moment to think about the ones they had lost. This place was a memorial.

He shouldn't check. He really, really, shouldn't check.

Danny's heart pounded against his ribcage as he scrolled down the list, a gloved finger hovering over the names, trying his best to hold still even as his body trembled.

_Sarah Fenly_

_Ashley Fenlon_

_Jodi Fenrich_

_Maddie Fen-_

Danny pulled away like he had been stung. He didn't need to read anymore, he had already seen all three names lumped together in a sea of letters. Maddie Fenton, Jack Fenton and Jazz Fenton…

Danny took a huge step back, physically trying to distance himself from this new information. They weren't his parents and that wasn't his sister. This wasn't his world. He belonged back in his universe in his own timeline..

After taking a few deep breaths to steady himself, Danny was able to think logically again, once more having to reevaluate everything he knew about this reality.

Well, that explained why Hunter worked for Vlad. Not the first time the fruit loop jumped at his chance to adopt the youngest Fenton… but if Hunter lived with Vlad, that would mean that he couldn't have stayed with one of his friends… because…

Spurred to action again Danny quickly re-checked the board, scrolling the M's and the F's. He sat down heavily on the concrete divider as he came back with his suspicions confirmed.

Fuck, this was the Dan Phantom incident all over again.

But this time it wasn't just a sauce explosion, whatever had happened here was much more devastating than Danny could even wrap his head around.

He buried his head in his hands, wishing with all his heart he could just teleport back home in an instant and shove this whole week into some dark corner of his mind to be retrieved by some therapist at a later date. Likely after he went totally bonkers.

Danny sighed and focused his eyes forward, lowering his hands slowly, practically glaring at the memorial. He did not travel this far to get stopped at the gate.

After running and hiding all the way from Wisconsin, he would be dammed if he didn't at least check to see if he couldn't find a ghost portal. Even if it meant walking through the rubble of his hometown and waking up the steps of a deserted Fenton works.

Green eyes hard with newfound determination, Danny stepped up to the fence and passed through the bronze plate and out into the wasteland beyond, floating a few feet above the ground to avoid getting his feet stuck in the rubble littering the ground. Danny kept his eyes fixed forward as the tops of the tallest buildings in Amity came into view. The shiny glass lining the sides of one skyscraper was smashed along the length of the whole building. On another, the top of the building was removed entirely, exposing thick support beams that stuck into the sky like bony fingers stripped of flesh.

Danny casts his eyes to the ground, keeping them there as he picked up speed, the wind whipping through his hair as tried to keep his heart beating at a normal rate, repeating in his head that this wasn't his timeline, not his life, this wasn't his fault.

Even as he headed into the city core, though, his spinning thoughts had already forgotten the tracker that was locked into his location, transmitting it to the man who's timeline this was, whose life this was, and who till this day still blamed himself for what happened to his sister, his mother his father and his best friends.

* * *

The key slipped out of the ignition with a hollow click. The black bike's rider slid from its seat and onto the sandy dirt, hanging the pair of goggles than had been protecting his eyes on the handlebars of his bike. The dust had gotten unbearable when he had left the paved road a few miles back, but he didn't need them from this point onwards.

In front of him was the large barbed wire fence that surrounded the ruins of Amity Park, locking it down in the same way you might quarantine a city hit by a nuclear explosion to prevent any exposure to the lingering radiation.

There had been some whispers about ectoplasmic contamination, but that was just a cover story. With the new need for an ecto-defense budget, the already strapped-for-cash government hadn't been able to put aside the spare billion dollars it would take to rebuild, much less the publicity it would take to convince people to even consider living in the city again.

Besides, the disaster area made for a good backdrop for documentary makers, news crews, and politicians, who all seemed to have a brand new take on the disaster every couple of months. Hunter bristled just thinking about it, all of it was so pointless.

Hunter kneeled down beside the fence, eyeing the small hole between the bottom of the fence and the ground. There was a little opening he had created here from a combination of digging under the fence and using bolt cutters to pull some of the metal back. In total it was just wide enough for a slender teenage boy. He was almost surprised he was still able to find the hole after all these years, but apparently the memory of his first visit to the ruins was still vivid enough that he could retrace his steps.

He paused a second to contemplate whether he should go in feet or head first, but the sharp points convinced him to test it out with his boots before risking an eye injury. Inch by inch, he slid forward, waiting to make sure his hips fit before closing his eyes and ducking under the metal.

Halfway through the movement, something caught, but he didn't stop long enough to fix it. The ripping sound registered as he stood up. He glanced at the tear that split open the side of his long coat. He could already hear Vlad in his head, chastising him for his impractical outfit.

He was too preoccupied to think of it any longer though, and it couldn't be helped anyway. He turned his back on his bike and double checked his weapons. Today he was packing small arms, fit for stealth only. He needed to make sure he saw Phantom before the ghost saw him.

A brief glance at his wrist communicator told him that Phantom was a half mile away, heading northeast. It didn't look like he was leaving the city though. Hunter growled under his breath and started walking, finding his way surprisingly well by landmarks alone. Although in a place like this the landmarks were something to remember.

The low hum of anger buzzed incessantly like a hive of bees hovering above his shoulder, the emotions held back only by Hunter's own determination. He would be damned to the ninth circle of hell before he let Phantom escape him again.

"This is your last mistake, Phantom," he growled, trying to overlook how he was talking to himself again. His therapist had warned him about that. "Nowhere to hide now…and no innocents to cower behind."

Hunter ducked under the barrel of a tank that had been flipped completely sideways and torn in half along the belly. Seventy-five tons of human engineering tossed in the air and broken like a plastic toy. Hunter shook his head, turning away. Once he had made excuses, said that if this or that hadn't happened, Amity wouldn't have fallen. But no matter what had been said or done, they still wouldn't have been ready. Not for something like this.

Even if every tank in the States and every gun in the world aimed at just a single ghost, the ghost would still win.

They had powers no one had ever seen before, and the only people who knew how to defend against them were the laughingstocks of the city until the very second it was too late.

Not that they hadn't tried of course. They wouldn't have ever given up. If only he had said something, stopped them from leaving. Hunter's fist clenched, catching himself before he could go on. His therapist was always telling him to be wary of his "why" place and his "maybe" place. Those thoughts were unproductive, only brought pain.

What kind of ghost hunter would he be if he let his prey escape because he couldn't handle one little ruin? Hell, that was probably Phantom's plan. He probably thought hiding here would keep him safe, the one place that he thought was too painful for Hunter to return to.

He was wrong though, dead wrong. He would not fail again, not here. The only thing Phantom had achieved was reminding Hunter why ghosts like him needed to be eliminated.

Hunter breathed in deeply. The smell of melted metal and gunpowder still hung in the air. It was heaven compared to what he remembered about the inside of the city. Most of the bodies had been removed to be given proper burials by their remaining families, but the stench of death still lingered.

The cold oppressive silence here spoke louder than words, and Hunter found himself wrapping his arms around his front, a sudden cold feeling biting at his extremities. He shivered and picked up his pace, switching to cradling one of his guns instead.

He glanced up at the sky, noting that the sun would be setting soon. Darkness would conceal him but it wasn't worth waiting until it came. He couldn't wait that long. His need for revenge rushed through his veins like blood and at that moment he didn't think he would have stopped even if the world ended right there and then. Not that Amity could look any worse if it did…

* * *

The ghost boy rested his head in his hands, the sky above him tinted pink as the sunset cast eerie shadows on the ruins that only barely resembled the street where he had grown up. The front steps he sat on were chipped and dusty and the right side had completely crumbled away.

Danny felt like someone had scoped out his insides with a melon baller and then thrown away the empty shell. Numb and empty, but still in a small measure of pain. He wrapped his arms around his front and exhaled deeply.

The trek through what was left of Fenton Works had completely drained him emotionally and he couldn't find the energy to move right now, maybe not for a while. The portal was smashed beyond recognition. If he didn't know exactly where it was he would have thought it was just a collapsed wall. If it ever had worked in the universe, it no longer worked now.

Danny was never very good at recovering after his hopes had been crushed, especially not in a forsaken place like this. He knew that he should move on. It was nagging at him, telling him that he couldn't stop, he should never stop. His brain was too full of worrying and stress to make the effort, though.

His will to do much of anything wouldn't fully return to him until the very moment when he was shoved against the splintered front door of Fenton Works with the barrel of a pistol jammed under his chin.

* * *

Hunter breathed out slowly, every facet of his attention trained on Phantom. He looked so frightened, green eyes open all the way, trembling softly in his hold. It didn't help that he looked so young too. If he were human he wouldn't even be out of high school yet.

How had one little ghost gotten so much power? One careless teen that could flatten a metropolis before it even know what hit it.

Gods, he was beautiful though. Hunter hated that thought, but there it was. Just having his hands on him made his heart hammer against his ribcage like he had been running a marathon. Ghosts were his life, in more ways than even he realized. They had taken everything away from him, but he couldn't help but be fascinated by their existence. He wanted to study them, talk to them, love them.

Why did they have to be so wicked, why did they have to destroy everything they touched.

It just wasn't fair.

Phantom was no doubt sensing his indecision, left hanging on the end of a pistol while the wielder fought his inner demons. Hunter had to act. For all he knew, Phantom was about to unleash his sound wave attack. At this distance that would kill him, defensive amulet or not.

His finger tightened around the trigger and Phantom's gloved hands grasped his wrist. It wasn't a counter move like Hunter had expected, though. It was more desperate, more clinging than forceful. His lips parted. "What…what happened here?" the boy asked, his voice carrying the familiar tremble. "What happened to Amity…Please?"

Hunter flinched, almost dropping the gun. Why would a ghost care about that? More importantly how did he not know? Every other specter lorded over their first major win against human kind. Many chose to rub it in his face even as he was choking them under the heel of his combat boots.

Then Hunter's eyes narrowed. The forearm pressed against Phantom's throat pushed down harder on his windpipe. Phantom was mocking him. That's why he had come here, wasn't it? To make him face his past, to distract him. Now he was acting like a scared child. The scared child he had been. Mimicking him in hopes to trigger a painful flashback. Many of his enemies had tried to use his history to hurt him… but this, this was beyond the pale.

Stupid rotting filthy stinking ball of putrid ecto—

**BANG**

Hunter's hand withdrew, his mind reeling as he tried to piece together what had just happened. The ghost teen slumped against the door and Hunter released him in a panic. The human took a step back, nearly tripping over the steps.

_Oh god no…Please don't tell me I killed him… _

Hunter covered his eyes, shutting out the world as his head spun, not willing to let himself look. Something cold and sticky stung his cheek. Ectoplasm, it had to be ectoplasm.

No, no, no, no, no…

Hunter's eyes shot open as he heard a low groan of pain. That…That wasn't him… so Phantom… Phantom was…

Well "alive" was the wrong word, but y'know.

When Hunter opened his eyes he saw the wound on Phantom's forehead, putting it together with the green ectoplasm on the barrel of his gun, realizing what must have happened.

A pistol was never the best thing to use as a bludgeon, but apparently it got the job done this time.

Hunter sunk his teeth into his lip, relief over Phantom's relative aliveness quickly replaced by guilt. That had been completely uncalled for, not to mention the complete antithesis of all his goals… and Phantom. Poor phantom…

The worst of it was that the ghost boy hadn't been knocked out. He was lying on the dirty front steps, hands over his wound, overcome with pain and unable to move.

Hunter fumbled with his belt, his fingers taking far too long to find the Fenton Thermos he had strapped to his hip. Phantom would heal, but he would do it much faster if he was forced to abandon his physical form.

And even with this lapse in judgment Hunter still had a mission…

A flash of light and Phantom was gone, only a blinking light on the console to indicate he was still there at all.

Hunter released a breath, casting an eye over the deserted landscape. He needed to get out of here, the sooner the better. If he made a beeline for his base, he could make it before the sun rose if he didn't stop to sleep… not that sleeping was a possibility after that ordeal.

He glanced down at the thermos in his hands and started back the way he had come. He had expected his success to taste sweeter than this.

At least it was over now.

**A/N**

ahhh! angst chapter! Get it away, it buuuurns…

*hides under a rock*

Sorry about the wait folks, busy time of year and trance got a bad flu. (if you see her make sure to give her an internet hug so she gets better)

This chapter is a little short, but the next one has some hot se- … I mean resolution. It's full of conflict resolutions. Sweaty bareback resolutions.


	6. Experiments and Revelations

**Chapter 6: Experiments and Revelations**

Every time he ended up in this situation, Danny felt the need to reflect on the worst things ever about being trapped in a Fenton Thermos. Mainly it was the inability to tell how much time had passed that bugged him, but the untold hours were even worse when passed in so complete a darkness he couldn't even see his own hand an inch from his face. Not that he had anything as solid as a hand to keep track of.

That of course was the second to worst thing about being in the Thermos; being forced into an ethereal form so he could fit nicely in a soup container. Unlike other ghosts, Danny was still half human, so the sensation of not being able to feel any of his body parts was deeply unsettling.

It was like being trapped in a thick cloud of himself, with only his thoughts and the darkness, all his other senses unable to give any information about his environment. It was probably like being stuck in a sensory deprivation chamber.

Or, you know, a solitary in a prison.

The only good thing about the times he had been trapped in a thermos was that moment the cap was finally unscrewed and light pored back into his world. This time around, being grabbed immediately after and strapped down to a lab table kind of killed the happiness of no longer being in the dark.

The bindings tightened around his wrists, a pair of hands holding him down as the straps were pulled and fitted into place. Danny was stronger, but Hunter was fast and the pounding in Danny's head had returned with a vengeance. The pain kept him distracted, and he failed to pull away before all four of his limbs were pinned down tightly.

Green eyes flashed and Danny drew a breath, only to chock on it when something cold and metal closed around his throat. He grit his teeth as his chest heaved with labored breathing—out of fear since most of the time his ghost form didn't need oxygen.

Blue eyes glared down at him, and Danny suddenly realized how close they were. Hunter was leaning over him, kneeling on the table as he checked the bindings. The difference between their body sizes was even more glaringly obvious like this. Danny was smaller and pinned down, completely at the elder's mercy.

Danny's right hand balled into a fist as he tried to call his energy together for a blast. His fingers started to glow brightly, and for a second he thought that he might actually be able to get out of this. A moment later those hopes were dashed as he realized glowing was all his figures were going to do.

He grunted and tried to focus his energy, but drawing on his power had the same effect as him crashing up against a brick wall. Like something was standing between him and his own powers.

Hunter shifted, and Danny shot him a glare, but only earned a noncommittal shrug in return for his scathing glance. "Simple power limiter," Hunter offered by way of explanation. "As long as that collar is on, you won't be able to do much more then float." He stepped off the table, turning his back on Danny. "I've already fallen for your vocal blast once, so it's this or a gag. We can switch if you'd like."

He shot a smirk over his shoulder as he approached the large console to the right of the experiment table. A flick of his fingers to open the program, the keys clicking as he typed. Danny could only see a little bit of the screen from his vantage point, but it looked like it was an electronic profile of some sort.

Danny bit the inside of his lip, trying to keep calm. At least he wasn't in a kitchen being tested for flavor. Not yet anyway…

Without a better option, he took a moment to assess his surroundings. The room was rather large but stuffed to the gills with equipment and disassembled parts. Wires and cables hung from the ceiling, crisscrossing back and forth in a wild mess that linked all the large equipment together in a gigantic hive mind. The console on his left linked to a large monitor that was mounted on the ceiling, the only display Danny could see clearly from the table. Computer code crossed the screen, and Danny found himself looking at a pencil sketch of his ghost form. It looked like a scanned page from a notebook…

He would have pondered this longer, but his eye caught the flash of metal on a rolling side table beside the platform he was strapped to. On top was a tray full of sharp-looking surgical instruments and half a dozen test tubes. The screen above him flashed and went dark, florescent lines beginning to travel across the screen. As they traveled they began bouncing up and down like the lines on a heart rate monitor. The upper one was labeled "**core BPM**" and the bottom "**inter pow lv**"

The first line had a huge spike dated from a few seconds ago, matching perfectly with when he had spotted the blades. Wonderful, now he couldn't even pretend not to be scared out of his mind.

A hand cupped his cheek, and Danny jerked in surprise. He earned an exasperated huff from Hunter who followed the movement and tilted his chin up, brushing back some of his white hair to expose the still bleeding cut on his temple.

Danny looked away. "Thanks for that by the way," he muttered, wincing as he remembered the shock of pain the metal pistol had made when it came down on his forehead.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

Danny blinked and looked up at the elder. Did he just apologize? If so he sure wasn't dwelling on it because the hand in his hair had already moved on to toying with the white strands, his fingers brushing them back and forth like he was petting a dog.

The motions were almost soothing, but the fact it was soothing just made it creepy. Danny looked away awkwardly, unknowingly leaving himself open. The sound of two blades coming together made Danny turn his head just in time to see the chunk of hair that had just been snipped from his bangs.

"H-Hey!" Danny tugged against his bonds with renewed vigor as Hunter moved over to the rolling table, a chunk of the teen's white hair in his hand. "What the hell!"

"I just need a few samples," Hunter explained, dividing up the strands and depositing it in five different test tubes. "I'm not taking anything you're really going to miss." He took the opportunity with his tools to open a hypodermic syringe, attaching the five inch long needle. His other hand grabbed Danny's pinned wrist and slid the bindings down, tapping Danny's wrist with a finger until he located the vain. "Little pinprick, try not to squirm."

To his surprise Danny seemed to obey, eyes shut tight as he braced himself. The needle passed through the skin and Hunter pulled back on the plunger. As the chamber filled with bright green ectoplasm, the ghost boy grit his teeth, the odd sensation of having something inside him sucked out drawing a low pathetic whine that he just managed to stomp out.

"Okay, no one said anything about being a test subject!" Danny yelled.

Hunter rolled his eyes and pulled the needle back, the chamber about half-way full. He inspected the few milliliters of fluid with an attentive eye before he placed the syringe back on the table. "Forgive me," he said, "next time I'll be sure to yell that I'm going to experiment on you at the top of my lungs while I'm chasing you through a crowded city center."

Danny swallowed. That would have made his week more stressful. He hadn't needed more incentive to avoid capture. Not that it had helped much.

Hunter pulled out another rack of test tubes and placed a few drops of ectoplasm in each, adding a clear liquid to the mix before sliding the tubes into a machine on the far end of the room, closing the lid as it stirred to life. A low humming sound filled the room.

"You're not like other ghosts," Hunter mused, returning to Danny in the center of the room. "I need to find out why you're different. Whether you care about the results or not, this data could be vital to ending the war."

Danny had to hold back a laugh. Now he was trying to justify his freaky fetish by saying it was for the good of humanity? God this guy was unbelievable.

"And how exactly does taking my blood help win a war?" Danny asked. "You're just going to use it to make a new weapon."

Hunter sighed, but he didn't deny the truth of that statement. "If that's what it takes."

He pulled a glass jar full of cotton swabs from a drawer and unscrewed the top, dumped them out and took one. Realizing what he wanted Danny sealed his lips together, backing up his defense by digging his teeth into his lips to keep them closed.

Hunter raised an eyebrow at Danny's compressed lips. "Now you're just being childish."

Danny didn't rise to the insult, keeping his lips firmly closed. Hunter tilted his head to the side, his own lips perking in a smirk. One hand grabbed the table as Hunter leaned over him. Danny realized where he was going, and his lips parted to protest seconds before Hunter kissed him.

Two endless seconds later, the human pulled away, leaving Danny to gape at him in a mix of shock and confusion, plenty of time for a ghost hunter to grab the saliva sample he needed. Danny attempted to bite the human's fingers but he missed by a longshot.

With a cocky smile, Hunter found another test tube and slid the swab inside. His picked up the tray and the tubes containing the severed strands of hair and placed them into another machine.

"One more sample and we're done," Hunter called, his tone not quite reassuring enough to sway the sudden pang of panic in Danny's core. Blood, saliva, hair… what more was there to take?

A scalpel pinged against the side of a metal cup as it was pulled from it, and Danny's brain went into panic mode. "You really don't want to do that, I'm pretty sure my organs are in the same place as everyone else's. No need to check!" he stammered, noticing the eye roll from Hunter right before the blade pressed to his neck.

He tried to pull away another inch, but the blade caught on the collar of his jumpsuit. The sound of tearing fabric filled the room and Danny felt his suit loosen around his chest, the black material splitting like it was made of paper.

"It-it has a zipper, you know," Danny said faintly, shivering a little under the intense gaze of the other male. The scalpel lifted and came down again, cutting a large, angular strip out of his suit and taking another portion out of the logo on his chest.

Danny let out the breath he had been holding as Hunter pulled away again. The human swapped his scalpel for a pair of scissors and cut the strip of fabric into smaller strips before sliding them into the last set of test tubes.

"See?" Hunter said, looking up from his work to smile at Danny. "You can relax, I'm not going to hurt you."

The ghost boy was far from reassured, though. "You mean besides handing me over to Vlad?" he muttered, glaring up at the ceiling so he didn't have to look at Hunter.

The elder man made a soft humming sound in response as he walked back to the machine to deposit the last set of samples. "Actually, I was hoping we could avoid that particular outcome."

The machine clicked as the test tube holder set in place, followed by a creek that must have been from a cabinet opening. Danny didn't feel inclined to look and make sure. He didn't like Hunter's tone one bit, but at least it was more hope than he had a second ago.

"And what exactly do I need to do to avoid this outcome?" Danny asked warily, pushing himself up a little in a vain attempt to feel less helpless.

Hunter cocked his head, his fingers closing around Danny's shoulder. "First of all you need to relax."

"You mean I have to let my guard down so you can get the jump on me?" the ghost boy snapped, defensive. He tried to shrug away from the hand, but the fingers followed the movement, tracing across his exposed collarbone.

"You're already tied up," Hunter pointed out. "I don't think I could have more of an advantage." He withdrew his hand and leaned against the examination table. "If you behave I'll consider removing the restraints, but otherwise you're completely at my mercy."

Danny swallowed, internally weighing whether he wanted to be free of the glowing bounds enough to justify sacrificing his dignity, especially when he had so little left to spare. A glass bottle full of clear liquid entered his plane of vision, and Danny traced it back to Hunter's hand where the man dangled the jar in front of his face, making it impossible to concentrate.

"I supposed you want me to ask what that is?" the ghost boy said, keeping his eye on the jar.

Hunter took it back into both hands, screwed open the lid, and poured some into his hand. "I originally designed it as a weapon, the prototype for the grenade you used. Something that would only hurt ghosts."

The liquid-covered hand strayed to Danny's exposed chest. The teenager tensed, his skin prickling, prepared for agony. The first few drops hit his chest and it was cold…no wait, hot. Burning like fire but… No, no it wasn't…and the pain?

The unexpected tingling sensation made Danny shiver violently, the strange feeling overtaking him everywhere the gel touched his skin. He had to force his eyes to remain open, but the battle to keep his body still was already lost.

The hand on his chest moved as Hunter massaged the gel into his skin, his ripped suit parting to give the older man access to most of his shoulders. Danny even found himself shifting a little to allow access to the part of his upper back that was resting against the table. The feeling was just too good and he wanted it everywhere.

Hunter leaned over him as he slid his hands under the ghost boy's back. "As you've probably noticed, the formula failed, but I still keep a little of it around. It's useful for persuasion." He picked up the bottle again and poured some more into his hands.

Danny attempted an angry growl but only got as far as a slightly broken whine. His head was getting fussy, a sensation that he knew should scare him consuming his upper body. If there was anyone on this twisted planet he should not be letting his guard down around it was his messed up alternate self. Especially not after that random kiss...and now all the touching…

Something clicked in Danny's brain, but Hunter's hands moved down his chest and onto his tummy. He glared up at Hunter, only to find that the human was looking back just as intensely, observing every curve and contour of Danny's frame. His fingers explored every nook and cranny, treating it all with intense care, like an archeologist observes a Ming vase.

The man's lips parted and he murmured, his voice husky and low, "How does it feel?"

"It…tickles," Danny hissed, his stomach muscles twitching involuntary under the elder's fingertips. "I don't like it, knock it off." He finished with a flash of his ghostly eyes, his voice much firmer then his willpower.

"Is that so?" Hunter purred, leaning close to his prey as his hand slid even farther down Danny's exposed torso. His other hand moved to the bonds holding Danny's wrists. A soft click of a button and the glowing bonds dissipated like smoke. For a moment, Danny was too surprised to move, but that only lasted until the urge to punch Hunter right in his smug face kicked in.

The move ended up being closer to a slap since Danny couldn't get his fingers to curl on time and Hunter grabbed his wrist before he could complete the swing. Danny's chest was heaving again from the tangled mix of emotions, though he only became aware of it when Hunter's other hand pressed against his upper torso and pushed him back to the table.

His gloves and sleeves were pulled off, leaving his top half completely exposed. Danny had never intentionally gone shirtless in public. Even when swimming he usually had on at least a tank-top, if only to save himself from Dash making jokes about his scrawny chest. Even in his relaxed state it was uncomfortable, and the cold lab table and Hunter's piercing gaze just made it that much worse.

Danny was planning his second attack, trying to figure out the best way to get Hunter off of him, when the tingling sensation still griping his shoulders spread to his arm. His thoughts jerked and his mind blanked as Hunter coated his arm in the gel.

He didn't miss a single inch, even getting the spaces between Danny's fingers, massaging each individually and stretching out the stiff joints and muscles. The ghost boy felt his extremity go limp in Hunter's grasp, the mental alertness he needed to counterattack wrenched from him.

His right arm fell limply over his head as Hunter did the same with his left, pausing halfway through to kiss Danny's knuckles and wrist softly. Every touch was gentle and slow, so much so that Danny's body couldn't believe this was the same man who had roughed him up so badly less than a week ago.

The second arm fell as limp as the first, and Danny looked up to see Hunter hovering over him. He couldn't ignore the way he was being looked at anymore. No one could mistake the hunger in the elder man's eyes, and here he was, lying half naked, hot and bothered. He couldn't have been presented better if Hunter had added a parsley sprig.

"Why are you doing this?" Danny panted, managing to fit a question between his attempts to wrestle his breathing back under control.

Hunter tilted his head and lifted a hand to brush white strands from Danny's emerald eyes. "Why do you think I'm doing this?"

Danny growled and pulled away from the hand stroking his cheek. "Because y-you're a sick fuck who wants to see me suffer?"

"You don't look like you're in pain to me…" The hand found his cheek again and held his head still as the elder leaned in for a kiss, this one a little more forceful than the gentle one that had tricked Danny into opening his mouth. There was no mistaking it this time. Hunter was kissing him for pleasure, because he wanted to.

Of course he didn't know what Danny knew, so he wouldn't understand why the ghost's insides turned backwards at the thought. He didn't know about their shared history, about how closely he was related to his newest little plaything.

Hunter pulled back from the kiss, looking pleased that his prey was relenting to him so easily. A momentary smile and a slight shift later, his fingers tugged on Danny's boots, sliding the protective footwear off.

Danny had to do something, anything! Above him the line indicating his core BPM (like a heartbeat for his ghost form) waved back and forth like a hummingbird's wings. He could feel it thrumming as the panic set in. There was only one thing for it, he needed to change back.

But the idea of revealing his secret made Danny's nerves quake. He held his secret identity so close there was just no way for him to even consider letting it go without that nagging feeling he was making a huge mistake.

Logic was on his side though, even if Hunter assumed it was just a trick it would likely still shake him enough to at least stop the fucking touching. His boots hit the floor in two successive thumps and Danny felt the bottom half of his jumpsuit slide from his hips, sparking another wave of panic and stirring him to action.

A flash of bright light erupted around his midsection. The glowing rings caused Hunter to reflexively pull back, a mix of shock and wonder flashing over his face. A second passed, but the rings didn't move. Danny grit his teeth, fighting to get enough control to force the transformation, but the harder he tried to force it the farther away it seemed.

Eventually he had to give up, the strain of keeping the rings in place quickly draining his already weakened power reserves. With a sharp intake of breath, the rings vanished and the room darkened back into the electrical twilight. The two electronic lines on the display above his head dipped sharply as his body went into recovery mode, leaving him with nothing to show for his efforts.

Hunter was still staring at him, transfixed by rings even after they had vanished. Clearly he had at least found the light show interesting, but unless it left him too flabbergasted to continue stripping him it was small comfort to Danny.

"Nice try," Hunter scoffed his hand resting on Danny's hips again. "You're good, Phantom, I'll give you that, but I'm still better. All your powers are blocked until I say so."

Danny felt the thin fabric of his jumpsuit slide all the way off, and his hands moved to cover his underpants in a reflex born of having his suit ripped off one to many times by marauding ghosts.

Using up his power trying to transform had drained most of what was left of Danny's logical thought process. The parts of his skin coated in gel still tingled, the relaxing feeling soaking into his skin like heat from a warm bath.

Hunter took Danny's wrists in one hand and pinned them over his head, and Danny couldn't even muster an ounce of strength to stop him. He wiggled a bit on the metal table, his legs unable to find much room to shift. He could feel Hunter's eyes on him again, every action stretched out on display for his visual enjoyment.

Something in the macabre part of Danny's brain reminded him that he didn't exactly have anything Hunter hadn't seen before, and suddenly what he had been worried about just moments ago came rushing back.

"S-stop!" Danny interjected, managing to get Hunter to pause mid kiss-lean. "You don't know what you're doing! You're not going to believe me, but you have to try to understand!" Danny's heart leaped for a second as he thought he might be able to convince hunter. "You're making a huge mistake, I'm y—"

A finger pressed against his lips, and Hunter smiled down at him, hushing him with a soothing sound you might use on a crying infant. The hand moved to Danny's cheek and their lips pressed together again. Danny groaned in exasperation against the kiss. Damn it, couldn't he just stop and listen for once?

Somewhere behind the sound of soft whines and moving lips, Danny heard the glass bottle being lifted. He attempted to brace himself, but the cool drip of gel on his leg caught him off guard anyway. The chill going up his spine triggered an involuntary spasm and his head banged against the metal of the table.

When the pain in his head faded he pushed himself up to see his socks had gone missing. His whole left leg tingled, and Hunter had his foot resting in his lap, his thumbs digging into the middle of Danny's foot in a rhythmic manner that would have been relaxing even without being coated in liquid aphrodisiac.

"Don't worry, little Phantom," Hunter murmured, releasing his foot and dripping more liquid onto Danny's other leg. "This isn't my first time with a ghost." His fingers left Danny's skin and found a golden chain, pulling his amulet out from its hiding place under his shirt. "You won't hurt me no matter how hard you thrash when I make you cum."

Green eyes blinked at him, the mind behind them processing this new information and almost immediately crashing. The human version of a blue screen of death gripping him. Internally, he had figured out that Hunter wanted to have sex with him fifteen minutes ago, but the panic and rushing thoughts had spared him from addressing it until the older man practically looked him in the eyes and announced his intention.

Danny's mouth opened, his unsteady emotions trying to settle on something to express (not helped at all by Hunter's fingers that were busy rubbing his thigh.) Why was he doing this? What could be possibly gain?

The answer hit Danny over the back of the head and he spat, "It's because I'm a ghost, isn't it? You have some kind of creepy ghost fetish!"

A moment passed, Danny's heavy breathing and the gentle whirrs of computers doing an inadequate job of filling the silence. Fingers moved from Danny's ankle to his other foot, the first traces of anything but a confidant smile creasing Hunter's lips. "You're much more than a simple ghost," he said quietly, pausing for the low groan from Danny, "you're special, a challenge…"

"You don't have sex with challenges," Danny shot back, eyes narrowing even though he was finding it oddly difficult to be mad and receive a foot massage at the same time.

Hunter released his foot, and Danny wondered when the bindings on his legs had been released. The hand moved to his hip, and he found himself pulled towards Hunter, his hands reaching out to brace himself against the elder's chest. "Who says sex has to be about love?" Hunter asked, their foreheads bumping lightly. "Consider it an act of mutual appreciation of each others' abilities."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Danny growled.

His indignation cut off abruptly as a gel-coated hand slid under the hem of his boxers. Hunter's arm crossed behind his back, and Danny found himself clinging to the elder's white shirt. Lips pressed against the spot behind his ear, and Danny felt his hips beginning to move, bucking up into those teasing fingers. The slippery hand closed around him, and it was like nothing he had ever felt before. His already tender body craved the pleasure even though it was the only part of him that was even remotely considering giving in to Hunter.

Warm breath bushed his cool cheek, and he could feel Hunter's smile. "Let me make this perfectly clear then," he murmured, the hand in Danny's pants not slowing even a little bit. "I'm nothing if not a gentleman, and I don't backstab my lovers. This is your opportunity for a forth chance, Phantom. If you choose to become a confidant of mine, I'll let you go. No strings attached."

Danny's core throbbed against his ribcage. Was he serious? Freedom it return for…sex… That was his plan this whole time? The hunting and the battles. A twisted game of cat and mouse, but not for the reasons he had assumed.

Danny couldn't dwell on it, though. It was much too hard to concentrate with Hunter's hand down his pants. A low whine came from somewhere deep in his throat. That was it then. He had lost. Hopelessness surged through him, paired with the rush of relief that comes from giving up.

The hand fisting Hunter's shirt loosened, replaced by two ghostly arms wrapping around his shoulders.

Phantom's body slumped in Hunter's hold as the man stood up with the ghost in his arms, his normally bright eyes dulled to a flat green. An unfortunate side effect of his little helper in the glass bottle.

It worked in three stages. Once in contact with a ghost's skin it delivered a concentrated burst of sensation to confuse and distract, reacting with the energy that radiates around the ghost so that the power level of the ghost in question directly affects how powerful the sensation becomes.

Stage two happened after the mix settled farther into the skin and into a ghost's ectoplasm. The gel took on the role of a drug, a powerful relaxant and depressant. This quickly cut into the mental resistance of the specter, making thoughts of escape or alternatives to his suggestions seem unviable or not worth the effort.

Then finally, about ten minutes after the lowest point, the third and final component would kick in, rapidly boosting arousal levels and excitability just in time to seal the deal. In theory it sounded like a dirty trick, but Hunter hadn't heard any complaints about the procedure. He had yet to have a partner who didn't leave his bedchamber skipping, or the ghost equivalent anyway.

They usually weren't so positive about the experience a few weeks later, but then getting plasma bolts shot at him was a firm part of his job description.

A soft moan and cold breath on his neck brought Hunter back to the situation at hand. The near naked Phantom in his arms was getting restless. The sliding door hissed shut behind them and the elder took the last few steps to his bed.

This room was much like the lab, dark and cave-like and full of computers and wiring. Books and notes spilled off the surface of a curved wooden desk and spare coats hung from the closet door. Messy, but not in a way that was uncomfortable or deterred walking. Hunter doubted Phantom was playing much mind to the decor anyway.

His pale skin stood out against the dark blue sheets, the slight glow of the ghostly presence illuminating the air around him, a thin inch of brilliant light. Hunter ran his hand over Phantoms' chest, the glow swallowing his hand and sending a pleasant chill up his spine. It radiated energy and power, life and immortality. One tiny little teenager who straddled the infinite gap between life and death. He leaned down to trail soft kisses over Phantom's skin, hands straying to his hips as his mind wandered.

How could anyone look at these creatures and not see how gorgeous they were? Perfection in both form and purpose, just like Phantom. He felt the thrumming against his lips, the pulsing of the ghost boy's core. He probably couldn't even begin to guess at how much strength was stored inside that little ball, ghosts had powers beyond human understanding and among the supernatural, Phantom was a god. He sometimes wondered if he was the only ghost hunter who appreciated how they walked among giants and beat them at their own game.

A mortal human and ghostly god. Yet, Phantom was the one stripped and lying on his bed.

Phantom was the one who whimpered as slicked fingers entered him.

Phantom was the one who bucked against him, seeking more.

Tongues mixed in a heated kiss. The ghost's saliva was cold as the grave but his tongue moved against Hunter's regardless. His mouth tasted unlike anything of this earth, as he was long since passed the need to eat or brush his teeth.

Energy seeped from every inch of him, lighting up the dark room like a miniature sun. Shadows waved as his wild emotions flicked back and forth in time with Hunter's hand movements. It wouldn't be enough for Phantom, though, not as soon as the third stage of his drugged cocktail hit its stride.

The boy's legs fell open and ethereal hands griped his, Phantoms' whine echoing with his power like reverberations in a cave, his disappointment at the removal of Hunter's hand clear in every repeating syllable.

The gel that had started all this felt only sticky and wet to Hunter, but Phantom reacted to being filled as if it were the most pleasurable thing that had ever happened to him. And to Hunter's knowledge, it might well have been.

Tight around him, Phantom was far from relaxed. Short fingernails clawed at his shoulder blades, legs crossed behind his back, a heel digging into his spine. Hunter's hand caressed Phantom's thigh, the other rested on the boy's heaving chest. Hunter didn't dare move an inch until Phantom gave him some indication to continue. He owed him that. Much more than that. Small pinpricks were gathering at the corners of Phantom's eyes, but it was the pain. They were just watering, he wasn't crying.

How small he looked under him, but that was an illusion. Hunter wondered how old he was, how long he had been a teenager for. It could be anywhere from one year to hundreds, it didn't matter for a ghost.

His green eyes were open now, soft sounds pouring from his lips. Encouragement to continue hidden in the soft sounds and vague words. Hunter braced the two of them, balancing the smaller form in his lap and holding him close. His pleas answered, Phantom's eyes closed again, his mouth opening to take long gasping breaths. Just like a human.

Remarkably human-like would have summed him up well and not just in his appearance. The ghost boy had the core of a specter but the heart of the human. When Hunter closed his own eyes he could still picture Phantom holding that little girl, protecting the kin of what should have been his mortal enemy without a second thought.

Phantom was special, oh so special, and Hunter told him so. Again and again between his own sharp intakes for breath and the gentle rocking of two bodies engaged in unabashed intercourse.

Phantom was far from silent himself. Growled curses seemed to be the norm, but every once and a while a tangible string of words broke free. The response to his compliments and praise was a sharp "shut up," but his cheeks were the most delightful shade of green.

Given the circumstances this wasn't supposed to be a tender moment, rather the ultimate confrontation between predator and prey, a release for weeks of anger and tension. However, the kisses Hunter left on every part of Phantom's body were gentle and caring, no doubt confusing the poor teen to no end.

But Hunter couldn't explain himself, he barley understood his own actions.

An inhuman growl came from underneath him, and Hunter barely had time to register what happened next. Phantom managed to get enough traction on the bed to surge forward and push the larger man down. Energy crackled from the ghost's fingers, quickly being sucked away and into the center of Hunter's chest where the amulet still hung. Hunter drew a breath and Phantom slammed his hips down, a breathless moan filing the air.

Hunter's hands gripped Phantom's rocking hips, his own head dropping to relax on the smooth surface of the bed as Phantom rode him with a lot more gusto than should be possible considering the amount of relaxant in his system.

The ghost's smaller hands fit perfectly over his own, fingers intertwining tightly as Hunter helped the ghost keep his balance while maintaining the short, jerky motions. First to gain speed with his confidence, then purely for the rush of pleasure gained from every stroke.

Hunter's skin prickled as energy kept pouring from Phantom. Uncontrolled flashes of ectoplasmic power were an important part of the ghostly mating cycle. If he were a ghost, no doubt the flashes would have given him five different kinds of bliss, but to a human they were fatal.

Ghosts and humans were never meant to mix, everyone knew that. But here he was, cockdeep in the most gorgeous silver-haired creature that had ever walked the mortal realm, and he loved every second of it.

Phantom arched his back, his breathing hitching in the oddest way. His lips parted and the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. Hunter watched, transfixed as green faded to bright blue and Phantom's breaths became visible, like he was standing outside on a crisp winter morning.

An elemental core…but they were only a theory. Hunter pressed the palm of his hand to Phantom's chest, and if it weren't for his protective amulet he would have gotten frostbite on the spot. Elemental ice from the depths of the darkest corner of the Ghost Zone.

Frost decorated the fringes of Phantom's white hair, but he didn't even seem to notice as he rocked back and forth. Hunter pulled Phantom down by his shoulders, switching from shallow and fast, to deep and hard.

Phantom whined softly against his shoulder, his breath making the human shiver. Hunter pulled the icy creature to his chest, trusting his amulet to protect him. He slid his fingers down Phantom's back, his soft humming barely audible over panted moans and skin-on-skin traction. He purred some words into Phantom's ear, before bowing his head and nibbling along the ghost's shoulder.

Phantom responded with an echoing moan, and, much to the human's dismay, pulled away. Frosty blue eyes met his own, then trailed down until they were both looking in the same place. The human licked his lips and moved a hand from the ghost's hip to between his legs.

Phantom moved against his hand and sighed deeply, closing his piercing eyes as Hunter stroked him, losing himself in the feeling. At long last the ghost boy had surrendered to him.

The only thing that could have ruined this moment was the lurking knowledge it was almost over.

Hunter kept his pace with his hands and hips, his senses finely tuned so he would know when Phantom was on the very edge. The sharp intakes of breath suddenly hitched and Hunter leaned up to press his lips firmly to Phantom's. A quick shift to an open-mouthed kiss, and he felt the ghost's last desperate moans as well as heard them. Phantom spasmed and shivered, and Hunter bucked his hips hard, throwing his own head against the pillow.

His eyes closed, the world seeming to slow to a crawl, sounds falling away for a moment of pure bliss.

Phantom collapsed on his chest, whimpering softly. Hunter rode out his pleasure and wrapped his arms tightly around the younger ghost. He caught a few words, enough to know Phantom was talking to himself.

As quickly as it had come the moment evaporated, and Hunter noticed that the frost and the chill in the air had dissipated. Phantom looked exhausted. His eyes were barley open and he was still mumbling to himself.

Hunter pulled the ghost from his lap and eased him to the bedspread, hovering over him for a moment. He reached out a hand and touched the release mechanism on the collar around Phantom's neck. It beeped at it recognised his fingerprints and popped open obediently.

That was his end of the deal then. If Phantom wanted to leave, he could. Though Hunter doubted he would go just yet, he looked like he was about to pass out.

He was trying, though, pushing himself up but making no progress. He looked distressed, maybe even scared. Hunter rested a hand on the ghost's cheek and hummed softly, trying to sooth the younger male.

"Easy, Phantom, it's okay," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the ghost's cheek. "You can rest here." Green eyes looked back up at him, drained of their usual brightness. His power must have been sapped from the offshoots during sex.

"No…I have to…you don't…" the ghost stuttered.

Hunter shook his head and hushed him. "Just relax, Phantom, I'm a man of my word. After you rest, I'll let you walk away. I promise." He pushed Phantom down and held him lightly, keeping him still until his eyes closed and his breathing slowed.

The human breathed a sigh of relief.

A snap of the air and suddenly the room was filled with sharp white light. Hunter shielded his eyes and pulled away from Phantom. He barely had time to recognize the silver rings before they vanished.

Hunter blinked. Phantom had just passed out…how could he have summoned the power for that? He lowered his arm and looked at the spot where the ghost was lying.

Except there wasn't a ghost there anymore. There was just a human, the exact same shape and size as Phantom. The same haircut and the same facial features, only this time his hair was black and he lacked the ghostly aura.

He looked…familiar…Without the trappings of a ghost, Hunter could finally see passed the glowing and the floating, could see the boy underneath the power. He forgot to breathe for a long moment.

What the fu—

* * *

A/N

Broken Mirror chapter 6/6

Epilogue to follow

ps.

What do you guys think of the new sex scene style? Like it, hate it, let me know.


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